Monday, October 26, 2009


Photos taken on my walk around the garden this morning. The poem is an old one.

October Rose

Will she hang on to Christmas or is her
blooming over? Once lush and luxuriant,
now she's just your late October rose, a
gift quite rare but all the more special in
your garden. Savour her, scarlet, salmon
or crimson, (not red-hot or blowsy), too
old for blushing yet still fine enough to
pick. Still beauteous of colour and still
romantic with scent enough to sate your
senses, thus inspiring a crush, or a
rush of love..... But her petals fall so quickly
now.  Too soon she will be gone to seed or
banished, quickly dried or cast away.

©Cait O’Connor

1 comment:

  1. I still remember a rose from years ago that, at Christmas time, squeaked out all of its perfect roseness except the color.