Unbeknown to me until last week, my husband took this photo one day last winter. I was staggered to see I look eight months pregnant, which would be a miracle I assure you, and I immediately threatened him if he showed it to anyone!
But then I remembered what I was studying. As you can see, forever my notebook to hand, I had stumbled across something on the beach. The beach is Porthcurno in Cornwall, it is one of the loveliest beaches you can imagine, white sand nudging up to a turquoise sea. Above it, on top of the cliffs stands the famous Minack Theatre, built into the side of the cliffs. Stunning.
Back to our walk across the beach. Before we continued on the coastal path, I spotted a single fresh yellow rose lying in the sand (just to the right of my stick on the photo), immediately the curious writer in me started asking questions, eventually they formed a few lines of poetry.
Who laid you there on soft white sand,
Your fragile petals falling without the sender's hand.
Are you for a friendship remembered?
Joy experienced - or in memorial?
For whatever reason, I shall record your presence here,
For whoever, when laying you down, shed a tear.
PP
If you are interested in the meaning of roses by colour go to:
No comments:
Post a Comment