New poetry, written Sept. 11, 2010… and no… it has nothing to do with 9/11 or any such other thing. Just me writing based on a dream I had back last fall.  I kept imagining a woman who’s face I couldn’t see. Blonde hair, average in general. But I couldn’t remember he face when I woke up in the morning. That’s ridiculously frustrating. Anyway, one of the poems that came out of it…

Sometimes Roses
Autumn’s come around again
Another Fall, we Fall, begins
Beneath the lights, the twilight grin
Until November closes
The end of all that summer blooms
All tangled up in verdant tombs
We sit and talk in painted rooms
Of dreams and Sometimes Roses

A thorn that pricks beneath the bud
That travels down into the mud
And petals colored red as blood
A subtle symbiosis
The dreams we had grow higher still
Into the stars, a vibrant will
And home again, on windowsils
Sits dust and Sometimes Roses

The violets are of violent light
The daisies are a small delight
The buttercups that glow so bright
And speak to all our noses
Yet none so special, none so sweet
None given such important feats
None ever to win hearts replete
None e’er so sure as Roses

For carnations do fine offers make
And for lillies, orchids, tulips sake
For all the rest that flowers take
None quite so sure reposes
Not like the last, the thorned stalk
That began and now will end the talk
Forever with my heart, she walks
Away, and Sometimes Roses