At the Victoria, BC “Remembering Glenna” celebration of Glenna Evan’s life, the juxtaposition of her photo and these thistle blossoms gave me insight and muse for this Haiku:
Out of thistle’d thorns,/
first beauty, then art, passion,/
now understanding.
My desperation/
comes from a fervent desire/
to not feel stupid.
We all stand in awe/
of the sweet rose bloom we saw/
too late to respond.
It is not a late/
night bootie call. It’s just that/
I miss you. That’s all.
She doesn’t have to/
go all the way to Vegas/
to win what she wants. B-)
Of all the garden’s fair blossoms, I thought she
Stood apart as beauty’s blessed epitome`:
A rose whose fresh scent and color of deep pink
Would cause passers-by to stop, stare, and think.
Or so ran my thoughts and reasoned story
As I stood in the garden shadow of her glory.
I, whose visage and carriage drew nary a look,
who was frequently passed by in my garden nook.
Until I realized, at last, one summer’s day,
That my passers-by also ignored her on their way.
And the pain and rejection I owned so deeply
Was felt by this fair rose just as bitterly.
I learned that no matter how fair or common we as roses may be,
Our beauty fades, wilts and dies when we’re ignored completely.