As I wait for the frost to kiss
The roses; I think of a grandfather who
In his later years cultivated such beautiful flora
At least I think of the stories that
I have been told, since he passed before
I was born… he was better with bushes
Than people. At least that’s what I understand.
Roses have their own language without the need
Of speech. They perfume for each of us
Uniquely – perhaps that is the lesson they teach?
soft and comforting embrace
Heeding Haiku with Chèvrefeuille / MLMM
Please see post for inspiration/instructions.
OctaTimbre: wordplay on the month of October; an 8 x 10 verse form:
Eight letters (same or different words, symbols), syllables or words by ten lines; in a single or multiple series of stanza. Created in honor of the month of October – octo being 8 and 10 – the tenth month on the secular calendar (by JulesPage September 30th, 2017)
Octa http://www.dictionary.com/browse/octa?s=t octa, octo meaning 8
Timbre http://www.dictionary.com/browse/timbre?s=t timbre because poetry can be like music