Tuesday, 7 June 2016

A Red, Red Rose

There was a little red rose in the garden by the window side. It was admired everyday, not only when it turned into a beautiful rose, but even when it was still a bud. The young lady took good care of the plant and the red rose gave its full colour in view.

One day, she sat next to the plant and tears rolled down her cheeks. The life in her was diminishing for her love was to leave the town the next morning. The leaves and the rose wavered a little because of the wind who was in full swing. The only help that the red rose could offer was itself.

The dawn of the next day marked the end of the rose, for it was in her beloved's hands, and her lips bore his kiss. The death of reality was as much evident as the birth of love, and the red rose was immortalized.

12 comments:

  1. You got really a magical pen rather it flows the words with such ease that really makes me wonder .... Really magical words on rose

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    1. The magic is in all, for one must believe in magic. Thank you once again for the magical motivation Sir.

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  2. The entire write-up is so beautiful, and those last words are amazing. <3 I love it ma'am. :)

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    1. Thank you Junior. And you keep getting better and better with your writings as well!

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    2. Without your support, that wouldn't have been possible, really! :) so thank you for motivating me and encouraging me. <3

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    3. Again, whatever I can do, I will do!

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  3. The first thought i had when i read this piece was this
    http://www.eastoftheweb.com/short-stories/UBooks/NigRos.shtml

    Very similar verses but yours has a little panda flair to it.. A little dash of red and a lottle sprinkling of hope

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    1. Wilde has his style and way of expression, and of course this little panda can never match up to his thoughts. There is no nightingale in my story, but the red rose stands to show that it is a rose and a nightingale, for the several unheard songs it had sung, which were nothing but sweet melodies.

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    2. See.. That matches up to what i have always been trying to understand.. You are you and being you is what is the ongoing effort.. You never know you can be the next panda.. Err suhasini.. A famous poet and teacher

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    3. I seek not to be famous but just a writer or a poet who has a faithful reader. And as always, thanks a lot Dexter, for being there, for just being there.

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  4. Oh this is very beautiful. Simple yet deep.

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