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Oh Nessa

Nessa plucked the rosebud before I could say No,
What did you do, Nessa?
So useless, the bud now, which can no longer bloom before withering.
Oh Nessa, what did you do!

I put the bud on its earth,
A tiny mud pot where the plant lived;
Oh Nessa, we lost a flower.

Till I came back on the balcony the next morning.
A limp bud remained on the earth.
Nature won't be kind to it. It won't open before it dies at what it is now.
Till my eyes shifted to the plant.

One stem looked startled.
It looked shocked to see the bud it nourished to be fallen before it finished nurturing it.
Its green stopped short at a point, awkwardly amputated.

Oh Nessa, it was not just that rose.
The stem is crying too.

Comments

  1. St Elsewhere20 July 2013 at 13:36

    The poem's inspiration comes from saving my lone rose plant from my daughter. I did save the rosebud from her. But not so long ago, I was pruning the plant and managed to cut a rose bud I hadn't seen before. I was horrified.

    ReplyDelete
  2. areyoukiddingme21 July 2013 at 06:48

    Seems like the poem is about more than just a rosebud...

    ReplyDelete
  3. Mina21 July 2013 at 16:54

    At least you more or less know what to do with the rose and the bud incident was an accident. I managed to kill all my roses so far. Before having moved to a house with a garden, that is. Now I have a rose I pretty much leave alone to its own devices and it seems a far wiser decision than to tend to it.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Bridget22 July 2013 at 20:12

    That poem is beautiful.

    ReplyDelete
  5. HeatherLakin23 July 2013 at 01:15

    This is beautifully written. <3

    ReplyDelete
  6. torthúil23 July 2013 at 02:19

    So sad and beautiful, and it speaks to me of the hopes and dreams cut off too soon.

    ReplyDelete

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