Archive for the ‘White Rose’ Tag
White Rose — Image By kenne
On one petal, a single drop
holds the whole sky,
a trembling world of light.
Nothing asks to be more
than it already is.
Still, I bend down,
grateful to be the witness.
— kenne
Daylight comes earlier.
Picked-up the morning paper.
Went went for a walk.
The usual walkers were out before light.
The hill slowed my pace.
I will forget the pain when I finish –
It’s always that way.
The warmer temps are forecasted for Friday.
The bougainvilleas are yet to bloom.
The spring wildflowers are blooming.
Knowing that they have returned consoles.
Come Saturday, the white rose will still blossom.
Signifying courage through the long winter night.
A symbol of the poets struggle.
They will not be silenced.
— kenne
Milk-White Rose — Image by kenne
Then will I raise aloft the milk-white rose.
For whose sweet smell the air shall be perfumed.
— William Shakespeare
White Rose Photo-Artistry by kenne
“One eye sees, the other feels.”
― Paul Klee
White Rose Shades A Tear Before #MeToo Came To Be — Image by kenne
White Rose: “Farewell Is Such Sweet Sorrow” — Image by kenne
Teardrops keep falling
Memories keep surfacing
Becoming private.
— kenne
Tear Drops Keep Falling — Image by kenne
Tear Drops Keep Falling
After saying our farewells
Keeping it private.
— kenne
Turner’s Notes
“In a world ruled by photographic images, all borders (“framing”) seem arbitrary.
Anything can be separated, can be made discontinuous from anything else:
all that is necessary is to frame the subject differently.”
— Susan Sontag
“Teardrop On a White Rose” — Image by kenne
“Heaven knows we need never be ashamed of our tears,
for they are rain upon the blinding dust of earth,
overlying our hard hearts.
I was better after I had cried,
than before–more sorry,
more aware of my own ingratitude,
more gentle.”
― Charles Dickens, from Great Expectations
White Rose — Image by kenne
Daylight comes later.
Picked-up the morning paper.
Went running.
The usual walkers were out before light.
The hill slowed my run.
I will forget the pain when I finish –
It’s always that way.
The first freeze is forecasted for Friday.
Say goodbye to the bougainvilleas.
Their fall color will be missed.
Knowing that they will return consoles.
Come Saturday, the white rose will still blossom.
Signifying courage through the long winter night.
A symbol of the poets struggle.
They will not be silenced.
— kenne
