Charmed Chaos
Musings on Life, Love, and Linguine
My Mother, A Rose
Burnished veil of gossamer light
floats into the ancient garden
come bright morning’s dawn
Venus blushes with the single rose
David strikes a majestic pose
a stone sentinel in Autumn’s light
watching o’er every bursting bloom
guarding the gathering honeybees
and the birth of Monarch butterflies
Rio Sambas are my gone mother
her sweet spirit lives in woody stems
for she tended them with loving hands
Back then her body, aged and bent
plunged bare fingers into wet earth
and now there she is forever planted
our matriarch is a thorny velvet rose
And thereafter every Spring and Fall,
when changing colors of season looms
then her spirit’s rebirth heeds the call
and manifests into the vibrant blooms
©2018 Linda Lee Lyberg
Author’s Note: The photo is a shot of a small portion of my garden. My mother lived with us the last 8 years of her life and helped bring a bit of Texas to the desert here in Arizona. The Rio Samba was her favorite roses, known for hardiness and for their changing color blooms from bright yellow to blush to the deep pink you see in the photo.
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29 Comments on “My Mother, A Rose”
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Poets Corner
You have beautiful memories associated with this rose.
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Yes, so true. Thank you!
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You’re welcome dear
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You’ve given us lovely thoughts of your mother, Linda.
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Thank you so much Ken.
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This is gorgeous. It blesses my struggling heart.
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I am so happy to hear that. Take care and thank you.
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A beautiful garden of memories…my mother also raised roses!
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How lovely! Thank you Lynn.
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FLoWeRS oF LoVE
WithiN
Blooming
Never Growing
Old to Touch A
heART SoUL
SPiRiT
to
Give
And
Share
BirthS On
Regardless
oF FlesH and Blood..:)
i Have A Statue of Apollo
Instead of David Inherited
From my Father And Stepmother
Along With Hebes the Goddess of
Youth.. Only Bust Up For Apollo
As HiStory
Wasn’t
Nearly
As Kind
to Apollo..
SMILes but
True All That
Counts is Who Comes Back to LiFE.. NoW..
SMiLes.. They Continue to LivE oN… A FilE CaBiNet NoW..:)
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How lovely that your mother’s spirit and roses are thriving with virbrant roses. Such an amazing remembrance!
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Thank you Grace. I can’t see a new one blooming without thinking of her. Her birthday is 12/7 and usually they bloom as big as saucers around then!
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Nice lines: “plunged bare fingers into wet earth
and now there she is forever planted”
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Thank you Frank. Your words mean so much to me.
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To have those roses talking with your mother’s voice is wonderful
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Yes, thank you Bjorn.
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her spirit lives on in those blooms as they go through the cycles of the seasons, a beautiful tribute to your mother.
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Beautiful image and poem full of memories and love. Thanks for sharing.
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Thank you Elsie! Hope you are well!
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Reminds me of the many myths and fairy tales where flowers grow on the graves of lovers and loved ones becoming vehicles for their spirits to return and bless the survivors. Lovely lineage you’ve evoked here in more ways than one – just what metaphor is designed to do!
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Thank you so much for your kind words.
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Beautiful garden. Reminds me of the Jasmine Hill garden near Montgomery, AL which are now, sadly, no longer open to the public. I think I detect more Charm than Chaos in that garden 😉
We live on through our loves, and she lives on with such beauty that you have captured in the art and life surrounding the roses. Love especially the alternating rhymes in the last stanza, such a gorgeous frame. (I was also glad to hear of the monarchs, keep the milkweed going, they NEED it – Mine this prompt is about monarchs. 🙋🏻♀️
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Thank you so much- so lovely. Yes, my yard is a designated Monarch way station, though I haven’t seen many this year!
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Thanks for helping them out
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My pleasure. I love watching the whole process of them becoming.
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It is amazing, with milkweed habitat declining, they have a real struggle
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Yes, I follow them on monarchwatch.org
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Here’s the actual link: https://www.monarchwatch.org/tagmig/
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Cool! Thank you
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