gathered rosebuds
i.m. Muriel Foster
the rosebuds are long dead now
withered to dust – though
my hands look nice as they hold the bowl –
sterling silver as I recall
Waterhouse said the roses are symbolic
there’s white for innocence
red for when you are in your bloom –
he has a mix of buds in there
said it was to do with the passage of time
can see what he meant now –
asked if I knew a Robert Herrick out of the blue
can’t say I do I said
he left it like that as was his way –
I like the set of my head here
and my auburn hair nicely gathered up –
I loved wearing that dress
I guess all my rosebuds have been gathered
call me John long gone
I’m sure he wouldn’t want to paint me now
though it’s nice to see how I was
James Bell is Scottish and now lives in France. He has written and published poetry for twenty years. At present he is at work on his first short story collection.
