any other name!”
She looks sweetly at
him, the centre of her
world, or so he thinks, oblivious
to her machinations. Machiavelli would have paled
in her shadow. She allows him a kiss,
pressing his finger to the rose’s thorn. The pain
sears his finger, but doesn’t reach his heart. Not yet.
I feel like I’m flitting from one prompt to another at the moment, a little like a butterfly. Maybe I’ll settle for a particular selection, maybe I won’t. It’s not a bad thing to investigate what’s out there, is it?
Anyway, this is another prompt I settled up, courtesy of Michael. His poem ‘The Black Rose’ is full of beautiful memories, but he has the black rose to link him to his past, so it’s not a mournful poem by any stretch of the imagination.
I took a different turn to the prompt, which you can find at A Dash of Sunny, and is focused on roses this month. It’s not that I’m not romantic, but it’s not my natural writing bent, if you will. So… love can be what we want to see it as, rather than what it is. Such is human nature. I hope my male lover learns the truth before the pain of discovery becomes unbearable! And in case you were wondering, the poetry form is an Etheree.
Why not pop on over to A Dash of Sunny, take part in the prompt, or just read the other entries?