Ode to Roses

Moving onward and upward again. I love creating images and anything that crosses my path becomes fodder for my concepts.

Yesterday my husband gave me some gorgeous “Joyce” (pink) roses. This morning I found myself playing with variations on the images – a creative endeavour that nourishes my soul.

Each flower was just beginning to open – all at different rates.

The petals are both delicate and strong, their edges clearly defined as they curl around and around each other.

Robbie Burns penned the immortal lines:

“O my Luve’s like a red, red rose
That’s newly sprung in June;
O my Luve’s like the melodie
That’s sweetly play’d in tune …”

And numerous other poets have dedicated themselves to immortalizing the delicate flower in all its many variations.

Keats added his words in praise of roses too:

“I saw the sweetest flower wild nature yields,
A fresh-blown musk-rose; ’twas the first that threw
Its sweets upon the summer: graceful it grew
As is the wand that Queen Titania wields.
And, as I feasted on its fragrancy,
I thought the garden-rose it far excelled;
But when, O Wells! thy roses came to me,
My sense with their deliciousness was spelled:
Soft voices had they, that with tender plea
Whispered of peace, and truth, and friendliness unquelled.”

And Shakespeare said it best in Rome and Juliette:

A rose by any other name would smell as sweet

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