Tag Archives: roses

Two Spring Poems | Jamie Dedes

January is on the Wane


Jamie Dedes

after Sor Juan Inez de la Cruz’ Rosa divina

January is on the wane leaving behind early dark
and champagne hopes for the genus Rosa.

Garden roses want pruning now, solicitous cultivation.
Layer shorter under taller, drape on trellises
and over pergolas, the promise of color and scent,
climbers retelling their stories in a ballet up stone walls,
an heirloom lace of tea roses, a voluptuous panorama
rhymed with shrubs and rockroses in poetic repetition.
Feminine pulchritude: their majesties in royal reds
or sometimes subdued in pink or purple gentility,
a cadmium-yellow civil sensibility, their haute couture.

Is it the thorny rose we love or the way it mirrors us
in our own beauty and barbarism, our flow into decrepitude?
They remind of our mortality with blooms, ebbs, and bows
to destiny. A noble life, by fate transformed in season.
Divinely fulsome, that genus Rosa, sun-lighted, reflexed.

And January? January is ever on the wane.

©2017 Jamie Dedes



One Lifetime After Another


Jamie Dedes

one day, you’ll see, i’ll come back to hobnob
with ravens, to fly with the crows at the moment
of apple blossoms and the scent of magnolia ~
look for me winging among the white geese
in their practical formation, migrating to be here,
to keep house for you by the river…

i’ll be home in time for the bees in their slow heavy
search for nectar, when the grass unfurls, nib tipped ~
you’ll sense me as soft and fresh as a rose,
as gentle as a breeze of butterfly wings . . .

i’ll return to honor daisies in the depths of innocence,
i’ll be the raindrops rising dew-like on your brow ~
you’ll see me sliding happy down a comely jacaranda,
as feral as the wind circling the crape myrtle, you’ll
find me waiting, a small gray dove in the dovecot,
loving you, one lifetime after another.

©2017 Jamie Dedes



 

Jamie—FullSizeRender.jpg


Jamie Dedes: Freelance: poetry, short stories and feature articles. Blogger: “Poetry champion” at The Poet by Day featuring underrepresented voices, poetry initiatives for peace, sustainability and social justice and poetry news, events and publication opportunities. Debut coming: Coffee, Tea and Poetry, which you can bookmark now. Founded: The Bardo Group (virtual) in 2011, founding/managing editor of The BeZine and, in 2012, began an annual September virtual event, The BeZine 100,000 Poets for Change. Former writing gigs include associate editor to the California Job Journal and newspaper columnist, On the Job Front, for six years.


The BeZine April 15th, 2017, Issue will be dedicated to (Inter)National Poetry Month—I am a Contributing Editor and serve as the lead editor for this issue. Please check it out! —Michael


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Rosy Morn | poem | essay | photographs

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Rosy Morn

Yellow-robed rose of the morning,
drops and drips on your yellow folds,
lit like a glorious fire, you sing
for the dawn-woken birds

—Michael Dickel

Rosy-fingered and saffron-robed

The past couple of days have seen off and on rain here in Jerusalem. Often the sun emerges between light showers—all glows and shines in those moments. I caught a picture of a rainbow with my iPhone Tuesday, along with some lovely roses covered in rain drops. This morning, as I entered my studio, the roses massed between the parking area and the sidewalk held chirping birds, flitting about, possibly drinking water drops from the leaves and petals. A few more photos with my iPhone inspired a short line for each, a sort of poem that I revised into “Rosy Morn.”

Saffron Dawn

Rosy-fingered
and saffron-robed
dawn embody themselves
in the rose bud opening.

—Michael Dickel

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“Rosy morn” and ‘rosy morning’ appear in many poems, usually referring to the pink to red flush of the Eastern sky. The Greeks often described Eos, the dawn goddess, as rosy-fingered (also rosy-forearmed), so Homer used the epithet “rosy-fingered dawn” (which fit his meter) to describe the dawn:

…when rosy-fingered Dawn appeared they sailed… (Iliad I:487)

…when rosy-fingered Dawn glows fair… (Iliad IX:712)

Next day, when rosy-fingered Dawn appeared, the people gathered at glorious Hector’s pyre.(Iliad XXIV:778)


The roses I focused my lens on this morning shone yellow, not red. Fortunately, Homer and the Greeks dressed Eos in saffron robes as well:

“As Dawn prepared to spread her saffron mantle over the land…” (Iliad VIII:1).

As Dawn, in saffron robes, rose from the stream of Ocean, bringing light to gods and men…(Ilian XIX:1)

At the hour when the Morning Star rises, heralding the new day, and in his wake saffron-robed Dawn spreads light on the waves, the fire died down and the flames ceased. (Iliad XXIII:194 title=”Homer’s Iliad xxiii:194 and more…”)

As saffron-robed Dawn lit the wide earth, they reached the ford of eddying Xanthus… (Iliad XXIV:678)

Here for your poetry pleasure, you can read below (follow continuation link)—browse and listen to some less saffron-robed and more rosy-fingered delights on this rosy morning—from poetry quotes to songs (both written and sung).

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