When I went out to my garden this October morning, there was only one rose left. It seemed anxious and afraid to be suddenly on its own, and cold. It also seemed to be asking a desperate question.
And so this poem. It uses the random “challenge words” that we writers at the Bardic Circle in Second Life choose at the end of each of our weekly gatherings. This week he words were: “Beyond, Amaranthine, Sunbeam, Whisper, Fragile”
Hold Dear the Amaranthine Dream
by Bay Sweetwater
Can a rose who blooms beyond the reach of summer sunbeam,
Awakening to feel the chill and loneliness of thorns,
Missing fragile whisper of companionable petals,
Hold dear the amaranthine dream wherein its flower was born?