The Beauty of the RoseA Poem by Beatrice Boyle (Grandma Bea)The dying of the rose is a metaphor for the waning years of a woman's life, and acceptance thereof, and that she is comfortable with that knownledge.
The Beauty of the Rose The roses lie upon the ground
Their petals shriveled and dead
Where once they bloomed so tall and proud
They’re now decayed instead
Once they gave such pleasure
Their scent wafting in the air
Unparalleled they stood
In beauty beyond compare
Their haunting scent is gone now
The petals have faded away
Dropping softly to the ground
Unnoticed at the end of day
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder
And that is really true
But too often the eye is unseeing
When vanity clouds our view
The flower that gave such beauty
That we loved to gaze upon
Is still to be revered
Although now faded and gone
Just as the face of a beautiful woman
Who’s weathered the ravages of time
Is remembered still for the pleasure she gave
When she was in her prime.
Copyright ©2007Beatrice Boyle
(All rights reserved)
© 2009 Beatrice Boyle (Grandma Bea)Author's Note
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5 Reviews Added on January 24, 2009 Last Updated on January 31, 2009 AuthorBeatrice Boyle (Grandma Bea)Woodcliff Lake, NJAboutHi from Grandma Bea. I am 81 yrs. young and have been writing for the last 25 years or so. My whole world consists of classical music, Opera ( I was a classicaly trained Soprano, singing Opera, Broa.. more..Writing
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