Grow, Grow, Thou Winter Rose

In the comments on Falling into Spring, Tom W. challenged/provoked/asked Jim T. to craft a poem about his dagnabbed roses.

Jim did, posting it as a Comment. Thanks, Jim.

Grow, grow, thou winter rose,
Thou art not so morose
As winter’s bitter snows;
Thy thorns are not so vicious,
As freezing rain is viscous,
and never meretricious.
To see more from Jim, check out his poetry page on his blog. I don’t have a photo of a winter rose, but here’s a summer one.

Close-up of rain-dappled rose


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8 Responses to Grow, Grow, Thou Winter Rose

  1. Tom Watson says:

    Thanks for encouraging Jim to write that poem.

  2. Jim Taylor says:

    well, okay, I admit that “vicious” and “viscous” don’t really rhyme, but they look as if they should.
    Jim T

  3. I am panting for color by February. The rain falling in our “January” thaw is freezing on every twig. The road is impassable except to Alex, who trudged and slipped the distance with a backpack to raid the fridge for milk and bread because the school buses won’t be running tomorrow and the van will be stuck in the driveway. I dare not venture past the deck; his strides through the snow crust are strong and mask his limp. Global warming has leveled the playing field, sidelining the able and raising up the valiant in unpredictable ways. Sheets of ice from the steel roof crash into the thinly blanketed flower beds.

    Your dewy rose helps.

    • Isabel Gibson says:

      Laurna – We’ve been following the dreadful weather “at home” with some dismay – but not nearly nearly as much as if we were suffering through it. I know what you mean about panting for colour. About 15 years ago I went to Guatemala for language classes, and came back to the ugliest Ottawa I’d ever seen – grey on grey. They’re poor in monetary terms, but rich in visual stimulation.

  4. It is so grey out the window right now….Bleh. Freezing rain. Must go out, alas.

    A friend arriving from Australia (many years ago now) could not see any colour — just greys, blacks, whites — in the Ottawa landscape. It took her weeks, she said, but eventually she saw lots of colour, the periwinkle blue of the shadows on snow, the rusts of the dead leaves still on the trees, the grey-green of the moss on trees, the yellow-green of standing water (in the woods) full of minerals, the turquoise of the sky on cold, cold days… It’s a subtle palette, but all our own, Right, non-Snowbirds?

    Actually, John Benn sells more winter scenes than other seasons — but not ever to you, Isabel (I know, I know!)

    • Isabel Gibson says:

      Barbara – I suspect many people react to the desert in much the same way as I do to Ottawa’s winter grey, thinking it’s devoid of colour. And it ain’t. So there’s a good challenge for me – to see the colours in an Ottawa winter.

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