A Flower in the Room
by
Jean George
copyright 07-29-2005
Age Rating: 10 to 127
The flower stands in abandoned disarray
It’s cycle of time nearly spent.
Petals, once sweetly blushed, droop in sad decay
Amid the wisps of fading scent.
An afterthought, brought to brighten up the room
Quickly placed then easily forgot.
At one time prized for its loveliness in bloom
A relic now of neglectful thought
Against the cold walls white and bare
The rose stands out in bold relief
The object of a silent, unblinking stare
Lacking interest, absent grief.
With polite resignation, drained of anger,
The life once hers she can’t recall,
She sits watching, in apathetic languor,
As faded petals wither, then fall.
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I think that the person observing the rose wither and fall personifies the rose. It also drives home the fact that we, wiser, stronger and more powerful than a rose, will inevitable face the same fate. Our own mortality is that ghost what we must stare in the face at one point or another. This author, with her mastery of language, vivid imagery, specially in the third stanza, captures the death of the spirit in an unforgettable and compelling manner. Masterful job, Jean!
A well observed though sad reflection on the ageing process.
Unfortunately, it is something we do not understand, or even give much thought to when young.
I like the metaphor, although for me, not a rose, rather a dandilion....lol.
Brian.
What James said!! His philosophy is usually over my head, but I think he gave a fine critique. All I know, is that I enjoyed reading this poem; thought it was well written.
Another well-written, physically beautiful poem and apt metaphor, though perhaps a somewhat common one, thematically. I'm not sure an actual person need be in the last stanza at all. The rose as a metaphor for the transience-- and the ultimate paradox of its unsatisfactory nature-- speaks for itself.
Sadly, this happened to a small plant my 6-year-old brother wanted, and forgot to water. Luckily though, I spotted it right before it died, and saved the little thing. It's true, most flowers are easily forgotten, and left to drown in the lack of water, or sun light, or just wilt with age. I love your poems, so please, keep writing!
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