Waiting for Roses

by maiasong

I don’t know how to feel on Valentine’s Day

How to not be annoyed by all the shocking red and obnoxious pink

Novelties lining the chrome shelves

Blinded by the fluorescent screams

Of smiling stuffed bears holding crystal hearts or silly coffee mugs

Sparkling cupids atop a frilly heart-shaped box

Soon to be abandoned with leftover, half-eaten chocolates

Cast among the disarray of once orderly

Tiny pleated gold paper cups

Not to mention loving sentiments

Written by strangers paid for words

Conveying feelings that just cannot

For whatever reason

Be pulled out of one’s own heart

Thinking to myself

This is what you would say

What I imagine you saying as I read

Before hastily returning the ornate card

To be chosen for someone else

You, my love, always brought me

Your sacred musings deliberately hand written

Ripped off with one corner torn

Left hanging beneath your equations and formulas

Words among ink smudges staining ruled paper

Words for me to covet

Every line and curve you left

As your hand moved effortlessly

Across the pages

You so carefully tucked among the yellow roses

Your hands, my love, reaching by instinct

Fingertips searching for mine

As we walked so closely together in silence

Listening to white balloons dancing on the evening breeze

Past the trendy restaurants filled with polished lovers

Playing out their Valentine’s Day script

Down the narrow lane to the old rose garden

With its stone benches, mossy paths, and budding oak trees

Hidden among the skyscrapers and road noise

Of a world moving too fast

When we were still

In love

So today I find myself back here

Weary legs outstretched on our favorite blanket

Faded over years of memories

Leaning against a cold stone bench

Waiting for the roses to bloom

Reading cherished words from your heart

I keep neatly tied with yellow ribbon

Safely tucked away in an old fabric lined box

Once filled with perfume from the day

When I knew how to feel on Valentine’s Day

4 Comments to “Waiting for Roses”

  1. i thoroughly understand these feelings about feelings ~wonderfully expressed !

    • I live in a city that has grown exponentially over the past 15 years. Having lived here all of my life I can still find scared placed often overlooked by newcomers. These places, like the old rose garden, convey a sense of peaceful reverence. Thanks so much for reading.

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