I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world, to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.

2 March 2016

Rainy Day Flower

A flower was offered to me
on a wet day. The wide green leaves
were heavy and glossy with rain.

It was a larger than usual gardenia,
the scent of its radiant bloom
intensified in the misty air.

And that is my favourite flower.
Nevertheless, I turned away, walked past 
as if I failed to see the arm held out.

I turned away, and said in my head
to my invisible companion: Dearest Andrew,
I'd rather be in bed on this wet day.

If you were here, as flesh and blood, 
I'd like to be in bed with you all day, 
snuggling up, cuddling, reading.

We'd bring snacks and cuppas 
back to our bed. Now and then we'd nod off,
singly or together. We'd rise around 4,

do a bit of writing at our separate desks,
feed the cats, get our dinner, watch
some evening telly. Then we'd go back to bed

in the same warm pyjamas. Then 
we'd make love. It would last all night.
We'd have amazing dreams by morning....

A flower was offered to me. I turned 
as if I'd not understood, and moved away. 
To embrace armfuls of deathless flowers.

Written in response to Sumana's Midweek Motif prompt at Poets United: A flower was offered to me


  1. even if reality is as beautiful as a favorite flower it can't be equal to the beauty of a reverie...love the yearning in the closing line...

    1. Thank you Sumana. I realise I had the prompt words a little wrong; we had thunderstorms, I had to turn off my computer and mis-remembered them. Fortunately it was easy to fix, and i think the poem works even better now.

  2. Sometimes our memories offer the most comforting bloom..the place we want to be..wish to be..can travel to in our heads if left alone..the opening image is dreamlike and by the time i got to the end i think i understood why that arm was politely declined - not rejection but a choice..i think i may well have done the same..skilfully and beautifully written..as always

  3. Life always offers a flower... And let's us make a choice... Maybe the known past is better than an unknowable future, howsoever fragrant... Who knows.

  4. memories as strong as the scent - perhaps if it were a different flower...

  5. Ah, yes. Sometimes those gifts from God and the universe will not suffice, as well I know. How patiently you etch that out, giving each of us more time to live the difference with the narrator. "Armfuls of deathless flowers." Thank you.

  6. The poem offers so much to the reader both in words and image.
    Beautifully rendered!

    Lots of love,

  7. Deeply riveting piece, Rosemary! As they say, strong walls shake and never collapse..that's what life teaches us! Flowers trigger strong memories...Love it!

  8. Oh this pings at the heart............the speaking to Andrew, your "invisible companion", the longing to have such a day as those dear remembered ones........sigh. Very nostalgic and lovely and poignant.

  9. Oh this is so poignant, Rosemary! Such wonderful memories you have. And, ah, if there were only deathless flowers...what a beautiful world it would be.

  10. How outstanding and poignant this poem is. One that quickly brings tears to the eyes as it is so beautiful.

  11. My heart is pounding. I understand the joy of sharing a wet day in bed. I think I too would refuse the flower. Beautiful writing Rosemary. I love its honesty, sensitivity and its sadness.

  12. Sometimes we want to walk in the garden of our mind..get lost in the memories we hold so dear.

  13. The emotion is striking, the last stanza hits like a freight train after being filled by the love of its predecessors. brilliant.

  14. This is my favorite part:

    "A flower was offered to me. I turned
    as if I'd not understood, and moved away."

  15. yearning for a past love is natural, i could very well understand your refusal, since the real thing absorbs your soul in a very good serving of memories

    thanks for dropping in to read mine

    much love...

  16. Nostalgic and powerfully emotive

  17. You have described those wonderful lazy wet days so well. True wealth in my opinion.A sad and lovely poem.

  18. There's a fragrance in this. I wrote of Gardenias too. This is lovely!

  19. Thanks for sharing your beautiful reverie with Andrew. Simple things can bring such joy. Another bittersweet poem.

  20. The not yet spent flower fits perfectly with your poem of longing. Beautiful moment to held suspended in a poem

  21. The memory of happy times past are stronger than the present reality. Yes, I can relate tot hat, Rosemary... Lovely write!

  22. There is a sense of suspended time, suspended, beautiful time in this lovely poem.