The Solemn Rose

Whilst I am not keen on my current employment, it has afforded me some opportunities in terms of inspiration for poetry, albeit very infrequently. Today was one of those days where an interaction with an elderly couple was able to provide the inspiration for the poem called “The Solemn Rose”. It is a tale of a love that grew for the best part of a century, yet that was only able to flourish during the twilight of their years, due to societal views at the time.

Now out of respect for the couple I will not divulge further details about their situation, but suffice to say that it was very inspiring to know that love knows no limit and that it can endure patiently, for almost a century of waiting, before finally getting the chance to flourish. I hope you will all enjoy it.

Until next time,
The Raven

The Solemn Rose

The palm of my hand is open, and a red rose with thorns lies within,
Every time I try to grasp it, the thorns pierce and rips my skin,
All my life I have held on to a silent, unspoken hope,
That the pain would become bearable, that I’d be able to cope,
I’ve had you so near, yet always so far,
Yet with every breath I breathe, a thorn reopens a healing scar…

The scent of your perfume, secretly always drives me wild,
Yet I remain silent, gripped with fear like an innocent child,
That sweet scent of a beautiful, cherished rose,
Inspired me into innumerable words, sonnets and prose,
For centuries I’ve dreamt of being the glove that rests on your hand,
But the world is not yet ready, they’d never understand…

I live for those single, hidden, silent moments we share,
The looks, the smiles, the hugs, the scent of your hair,
Dutifully and faithfully loving you from afar,
And every night, wishing upon a star,
In vain hope that my dreams would come true,
Tormented by the reality that there is no me, without you…

A solemn vow upon the stars was made by me years ago,
As I grasped the rose in my hand, and swayed to and fro,
The blood flowed as the thorns pierced within,
Opening an eternal would within my skin,
This pain can only cease, can only heal,
Upon the moment we begin to share a love that’s real,
For until that day when the shadows fall,
All I’ll have is dreams, to answer love’s call,
Until then I remain, the solemn rose,
That silently whispers love’s mournful prose…

Written by The Raven –  17/11/2016 ©


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