When red of my roses burnt into brown
and your pansies have perished in snow
the garden is silent, the orchard is bare.
When ivy has strangled the plum tree
the laburnum bears venomous pods
but thorns of my roses still endure.
The flower picker by John William Waterhouse
Today Sarah hosts at dVerse and brings us the language of flowers to inspire us a bit.
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July 24, 2018
Running in the slow lane
The view from here ... Or here!
“Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving.” — Albert Einstein
chronicling my quarter life crisis
Now we see through a glass, darkly
rejuvenatement - not retirement
words and scribble.
The Quantumverse
Poetry, haiku. Life, word play, puns, free verse
About fantastical places and other stuff
Björn Rudbergs writings 
Nice sound. I like the endurance even of only thorns.
I agree with Frank, there’s something enduring about those thorns. There’s a chance those roses will flower again in spring. This is another poem with a Romantic sensibility that works so well for this prompt.
I like the tenacity of thorns. They do endure and are good in staving off further attacks. (Check the ‘the’ in the last line.)
There’s passion in this write.
Thank you… great update.
I think Sarah’s prompt has brought the best out of all of us! Romantic and tender poems…..Lovely
I love the easy-flow rhythm of this:
“When ivy has strangled the plum tree
the laburnum bears venomous pods”
That song is one of my faves.
You found gold within brevity, as I used Sarah’s list to fully embrace the sadness of love faded and pricked by thorns.
These flowers seem to be suffering but I like the thorns enduring. They are there to protect the rose .
This has a pre-Raph ring to it.
Those thorns do endure, even after the garden is silent and the orchard bare.
The endurance of thorns is a powerful image!
I can see why the speaker is captivated by the allure of a sharpened thorn (I mean, who isn’t?) but there is a sense of nostagia tucked in there too, like a pressed flower in an old and well-loved book. I can almost see the speaker pressing their finger tips to such a rose, and make a little prayer, hoping they’ll bloom again.
I definitely was struck, as was Jo, by the endurance of thorns as a powerful image.
Love this, especially the last line.
a sense of longing, or pain, or love requited or not … and thorns are both deliverance and defense …. a choice yes, to live on, perhaps in hope, or to relive the bittersweet and linger in pain …
lovely use of particular flowers to denote meanings, and I really liked the image of pansies perishing in snow ….
this is a lovely little reflection …
I like the gothic vibe of this one, Bjorn!
kaykuala
but thorns of my roses still endure.
Protection is always helpful. It works its own ways
Hank
What a great ending! When all else no longer thrives, the thorns remain! Wow! So true!
Wonderful, Bjorn.
Sadly, the pansies have perished! I’m not surprised by the thorns outlasting the blooms.
Yes, roses do have their thorns. Perhaps they are just like people?
Ah, the way you have taken the symbolism and interpreted it is wonderful. The thorns are enduring, can they make it up for the end?! A lament-like verse.
-HA
Oh the symbolisms each bloom carries. Well planted, Bjorn!
That garden still feels like it will blossom again… the thorns endure for a reason!
The pretty things, the soft things (especially when said things are easily seen) are the first ones we mourn. It’s hard to see the value of the things that can (and often do) tear us to pieces. But sometimes, they are the best we have, and the only things that stick around… when all goes wrong.
So many thorns–dangerous, sharp, natural–hinting of blooms that were… and that might be again (even if different).
I have found a new appreciation for withered flowers. They have a different beauty. I follow someone on Instagram who’s title is lovely dead crap…They are amazingly beautiful images.
I love the hint of hope in this poem.. the idea that roses will flower again in spring! 💜
Ouch. This is so true. A melancholy takes over. My favorite line is the murderous one about the vine strangling the plum tree.
I see you took the ivy in a similar direction as I did. I love how the different elements of the garden come together in this and end in the sharp point of rose thorns.
Oh, I love this flowery non-love poem! Thorns endure – great line.
This is exquisite, Bjorn – it has the cadence of romantic poetry at its best.
Even without reading the “code list” to the meaning of flowers, this poem carries a sense of love….once warm and beautiful…..enduring beyond time and edges of it remaining.
“your pansies have perished in snow
the garden is silent, the orchard is bare.”
These two lines contain such visceral images for me…..
There is still a painful memory of once warm love…those nettles that hurt….the cold that came….and the thorns that endure.