The Jonquil and the Rose

Two lovers on a porch
somewhere within a painting by Claude Monet
And now my lady
To answer your question
I find the jonquil to be
the flower most fair
A creamy perfection
in the arms of moonlight

You are but a foolish youth
As the jonquil is a fool
It always comes too quick
and too quickly departs

But my lady
The jonquil comes when it is most needed
In the cold
weary times
When life must once again arise from the ashes
A bright yellow trumpet telling an amber
Tale of the coming year

I suppose the crocus is more the fool
for coming in the days of snow
And I have always harbored
A passing fancy for the jonquil’s perfume
But still it is a pity that it passes too soon

In as much as I am the student
What then is the flower
you most favor my lady fair

Oh most lovely by far
is the crimson rose
So delicate
Arousing the blood
There is a fire in the rose
Have you ever seen it burn

The Earth turns through night and day
And even the rose must pass
For planted in each and every flower
There is the seed . . .
The dark seed

Oh youth
Are you always so easily deceived
Soon or late we all
Drop like fragrant petals of apple blossom
To be ground under foot
By the thunderous boots of Time
But the petals in falling
Leave behind the buds
And the buds become the fruit
And the fruit bears the seeds
not dark things but living
From the seeds come the bloom of new life

Then marry me my lady
That we might come to full flower
And dance in joyous profusion in the Moonlight
in the Dawn

Perhaps you are a foolish youth
And I a witless dame
But I will dance the ageless dance
And love you just the same

Published by

Chyfrin the Celtic poet

Artist, Poet, Electrical/Biomedical Engineer, Actor, Playwright, Set construction, Educator, Lover of womankind and single malt scotch

2 thoughts on “The Jonquil and the Rose”

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