Plume

Thanks to Khara’s prompt today for her 30×30 challenge (plume), I present you a little fairy tale about a rose.

rose-red-rose

Nom de Plume

Rose, her name was,
and her writing
as sweetly fragrant
as her name.

I found her on the sand
one warm spring day.
She said she’d stay,
for a while anyway.

She wrote of flowersred-rose-and-pearl-red-rose-wallpaper
of nature, of hours
spent in the sun,
or by the sea
or lying with me.

And how I loved
that sweet lipped girl,
curved and round hipped.
Smiling, kissing,
and always writing.

Until the summer day,
I found my Rose had gone away.
She’d taken her poems
(and her name)
and nothing more.
For days I wandered
on the shore,
calling for my Rose.

But how was I to know
she’d found (and bound)
some other man with her
sweet lipped smile?

She’s Lily now, no doubt,
or Daisy.

Writing sweetly fragrant words
always, don’t be bothered by the thorns,
because one always knows
A Rose
by any other name
would smell as sweet.

roses, petals

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