Life is… but a rose!

You could be beautiful, you could be empty. You could cast your fragrance and your radiance over them. You better not run away. You ought to have guessed all the affection that lay behind your poor little stratagems. Flowers are so inconsistent! But young is the heart to know how to love.

It is June, and my world smells of roses. The roses that lived the little hour are prized beyond the sculpted flowers. At this point i remembered a beautiful saying –

“All June I bound the rose in sheaves, Now, rose by rose, I strip the leaves.”-Robert Browning

Life is, but a rose. It has its beginning and its blooming seasons. It withstands the adversities. It withholds the winds. When you don’t feel the pointed things in life, you definitely take the soft ones for granted. Many a phases are hidden under the plenty pink petals with sweets and bitterness in every fold. A perfect contradiction it provides – the joy of love and the pain of dismal.If you enjoy the fragrance of a rose, you must accept the thorns which it bears.

“That which God said to the rose, and caused it to laugh in full-blown beauty, He said to my heart, and made it a hundred times more beautiful”

A rose has no explanation. It blooms because it blooms.”If you want to say it with flowers, a single rose says: ‘I’m the love!”

Go, lovely rose! Tell her that wastes her time and me That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. -Edmund Waller

She was fair as is the rose in May. She had allowed her delectable lover to pluck that flower which, so different from the rose to which it is nevertheless sometimes compared, has not the same faculty of being reborn each spring. She still blooms, but not the flower anymore. The lily and the rose in her fair face are still striving for precedence.

Can anyone remember love? I would like to ask. It’s like trying to summon up the smell of roses in a cellar. You might see a rose, but never the perfume.

Rose is an expression of love, gratitude and humbleness. But it cannot express the right emotion in a right way. It is a mere beauty that rose from the mud to please the heart and hide the tears.

Rose is, but a beautiful memory. Even this memory has its shades. From maroon to the streak of vermilion to even black! Try not to be someone’s rose, for it will one day fade… rather be the fragrance and linger in the heart, if love is forever to stay. ❤

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4 thoughts on “Life is… but a rose!

  1. Vasundhara Singh Chaudhry says:

    Roses are like women. They are the epitome of love, the red and beautiful soul of the flower while the thorns are the shields past which lies the Scarlet spirit. If the holder is not careful and delicate with the rose, he might not be able to get past the shields.

    Liked by 1 person

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