The Last Rose of Summer…Friday Fictioneers.

There was something different about this rose…the last rose of Summer. While the harsh Autumn winds had claimed the rest of her kin, she stood firm, holding her petals in tight. Clearly, she was waiting.

Once upon a time, I would’ve known she was waiting for me. That she would be my bride. I’d have pulled out my violin, and accompanied her sweet song. Kissed her tenderly, sweeping the dew drops from her heart.

However, the winds had changed. Tortured by her thorns, I only knew love’s scars.

I did what I must.

It was off with her head.

……

“The Last Rose of Summer” is a poem by the Irish poet Thomas Moore. He wrote it in 1805, while staying at Jenkinstown Park in County Kilkenny, Ireland, where he was said to have been inspired by a specimen of Rosa ‘Old Blush’.^[1] The poem is set to a traditional tune called “Aislean an Oigfear”, or “The Young Man’s Dream”,^[2] which was transcribed by Edward Bunting in 1792, based on a performance by harper Denis Hempson (Donnchadh Ó hÁmsaigh) at the Belfast Harp Festival.^[3]

I have been researching my Irish roots for many years and recently started researching a group of Irish Famine Orphans from Midleton Workhouse County Cork who emigrated to Sydney, Australia. These girls included my 4th Great Grandmother, Bridget Donovan. I have been trying to pick up a bit of Irish cultural history and came across this dramatic poem.

– Wikipaedia.

“The Last Rose of Summer”

‘Tis the last rose of summer,
Left blooming alone;
All her lovely companions
Are faded and gone;
No flower of her kindred,
No rosebud is nigh,
To reflect back her blushes,
Or give sigh for sigh.

I’ll not leave thee, thou lone one!
To pine on the stem;
Since the lovely are sleeping,
Go, sleep thou with them.
Thus kindly I scatter,
Thy leaves o’er the bed,
Where thy mates of the garden
Lie scentless and dead.

So soon may I follow,
When friendships decay,
And from Love’s shining circle
The gems drop away.
When true hearts lie withered,
And fond ones are flown,
Oh! who would inhabit
This bleak world alone?

Thomas Moore

This has been another contribution to Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wishoff Fields. PHOTO PROMPT © Marie Gail Stratford

 

Old Flame-Friday Fictioneers

Margaret made Bill his cup of tea…Twining’s Australian Breakfast.

“What’s wrong with them, Bill? Can’t they read? NO FLOWERS meant NO FLOWERS! It was hard enough to bury you once, but over and over again, petal-by-petal? Just stick a knife in my heart. NO! I’m NOT being a drama queen. Got a friggin rose caught in the walker. Almost broke my neck. I COULD’VE DIED.”

“All those flowers… Didn’t they know, you NEVER gave me flowers?”

“Flowers in death, but not in life… A bunch for every birthday and anniversary you ever forgot…”

“I hate flowers. Burn them all!”

……

A few years ago, a neighbour’s husband passed away and she had an entire room filled with flowers, and the whole prospect of what to do with them, really troubled her. One morning, she popped over and gave me an arm full of dead Arum lillies. To be honest, I wasn’t thrilled about receiving them either. What was I supposed to do with them? I knew them out. I lamost always give people a photo frame when they lose someone close. Flowers just become another death.

That said, I love receiving them, and while they’re good, they really do cheer you up.

This has been another contribution fot Friday Fictioneers hosted Rochelle Wisoff-Fields PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson.

xx Rowena

An Ant’s Road Through the Roses.

the ants’ road
from peaks of clouds
to here.

Issa

When I saw this luscious red rose, I immediately metamorphosed into an ant crawling through it’s mountainous red petals until it finally reached all those golden pollen at the centre of the universe and slept.

Come to think of it, do ants actually sleep? Have you ever seen an ant taking a nap?

Just a thought…

xx Rowena

Flowers: When You Can’t Grow Your Own……

Hope you’re enjoying your virtual experience of the Royal Sydney Easter Show. So far, we’ve boarded the rollercoaster, battled it out on the dodgems, toured the dog pavillion where we checked out the Best in Show and went on to see a sheep dog round up some sheep. How we’ve managed to jam so much into one day, I don’t know but it isn’t over yet.

Now, we’re off to the flowers. They were absolutely stunning and I can assure you that nothing like this is growing in our desiccated garden.

What an incredible orchid just begging to be photographed!

“Every flower is a soul blossoming in nature.”

Gerard De Nerval

 

 

What’s in a name? that which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet.

William Shakespeare Romeo and Juliet (2.2.45-7)

 

 

 “If your heart is a volcano, how shall you expect flowers to bloom?”

Khalil Gibran

“But when the melancholy fit shall fall

Sudden from heaven like a weeping cloud,

That fosters the droop-headed flowers all,

And hides the green hill in an April shroud;

Then glut thy sorrow on a morning rose,

 Or on the rainbow of the salt sand-wave,

Or on the wealth of globed peonies;

Or if thy mistress some rich anger shows,

Emprison her soft hand, and let her rave,

And feed deep, deep upon her peerless eyes.”

John Keats: Ode To Melancholy

 

“Love is the flower you’ve got to let grow.”

John Lennon

“The fairest thing in nature, a flower, still has its roots in earth and manure.”

D. H. Lawrence

“By plucking her petals, you do not gather the beauty of the flower.”

Rabindranath Tagore

“When I walk with you I feel as if I had a flower in my buttonhole.”

William Makepeace Thackeray

“The artist is the confidant of nature, flowers carry on dialogues with him through the graceful bending of their stems and the harmoniously tinted nuances of their blossoms. Every flower has a cordial word which nature directs towards him.”

Auguste Rodin

So, I hope you enjoyed our journey through the Flower Exhibit at the show. It really was beautiful!

xx  Rowena

Shooting Cupid!

Sunday 14^th February…it’s Valentine’s Day…AGAIN!

Once upon a time, there was a romantic young woman who lived from Valentine’s Day to Valentine’s Day. With eyes filled with red love hearts and enthusiastically searching the globe for her Romeo, her one true love, she mailed out Valentine’s day cards by the thousands hoping that one day true love would come.

Oh how the mighty have fallen!

Fast forward 25 years and that very same woman is now hunting down cupid with a vengeance. A caped crusader trying to rid the world of this evil little blighter, who despite an eternity of arrow-shooting practice, is still randomly shooting arrows all over the place, constantly missing his targets.

While missing targets is bad enough, it gets worse. Much worse!

You see, he shoots those very same, well-intentioned arrows into all the wrong people causing all sorts of grief and heartache.

What’s more, I know it’s deliberate. I have absolutely no doubt that Cupid enjoys making people suffer watching their one true love pointlessly pursue someone else who is in love with someone else.

Sick! It’s truly sick.

Yet, it seems to give Cupid some kind of sadistic pleasure. But before anyone can implicate him in his terrible misdeeds, Cupid has done his dash, fled the scene leaving nothing but carnage. The place looks like a smash-up derby with smoke pouring out of crippled engines. Yet, these are real people made of flesh and blood with beating hearts. They hurt!

Yet, for some reason those looking for love still have faith.

Believe.

One day, cupid will finally come!

After all, isn’t life just one great big Disney fairytale?!!

Ha!

Perhaps, true love might come but it could well be long after an extremely long and very bumpy road… volumes of heartbroken verse, pouring bunches of incredibly expensive long-stemmed red roses and luscious, scrumptious chocolates straight down the proverbial toilet. Enduring romantic dinners with all the wrong people…All while cupid plays matching pairs with his eyes shut.

I am sorry but somewhere along the way, I’ve become cynical and lost the faith.

It’s not that I’m still single and haven’t found the one. Indeed, cupid finally did come through for me and my husband even proposed on Valentine’s Day.

However, Valentine’s Day is a bit like winning those all important prizes at school. You can work hard all year and be smart, intelligent and conscientious but if you’re No. 2 instead of number 1, you’re sunk. You can be in a relationship all year but if you’re single on Valentine’s Day and staying home with your cat, you’re suddenly ugly, unlovable and a total loser. You’re not enough enough and nobody wants you.

Indeed, you’ve just won the Loser’s Lottery.

Meanwhile, just to compound your angst, everyone around you has somehow managed to find “The One”.

Or, at least, their true love of the moment!

However, if you are single this Valentine’s Day, take heart. As I said, it’s not your fault. It’s Cupid.

So why don’t we both do the world a favour and shoot him down.

Then, you might just have a chance of ….(I can hear some violins!)

A Happy Valentine’s Day!

xx Rowena