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Frosting roses atop her cake
Closing her eyes, a wish to make
Next year will be for her own sake
This slice she will not eat
Her preferences she will not fake
The roses are too sweet
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Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash. Leonard Cohen
15 comments:
Claiming the next year as her own and not faking who she is or what she wants... Love it!
Oh, I love that!
Next year will be for her own sake.
Genius in its simplicity.
Pearl
yeah...def a little over the top on icing at times...makes my teeth hurt...smiles.
Very nice Rime Couée. (And now I think I'm in the mood for some cake icing and rosettes.) ;D
A salty sort of girl, is she?
She's right! But, I never turn down cake, either.
A wish just for her...you got it. I love to have a piece of this cake ~
I always used to save the roses for later, only to find that they'd gotten stale. This poem works so well on both a literal and a metaphorical level. Really nice!
What an interesting poem! Love that they are too sweet.
I know what she means about the roses. How (or why?) do they make them sweeter than the rest of the frosting?
Well said!
Next year will be for her own sake (I really like this thought)
I wish I could say frosting was too sweet - it is my weakness...
Like it a lot, lm. Faking is for sissies. And I love your tags--nice use of the form as well--that rhyme scheme has a hell of a cadence to it.
I remember keeping the sugar roses off cakes because they were too beautiful to eat. Thank you for responding to this un-flowery challenge.
I don't have the willpower to resist frosting roses.
Do I detect a blossoming of independence for one young madam? Though I'd have thought it'd happen before the age of 19...
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