The White Rose

The implication of a Past me

By Lane BurnsPublished about a year ago • 1 min read

Photo by Sammie Chaffin on Unsplash

I am dreaming of a lovely white rose.

A man hands it to me, what is he proposing?

And all throughout I see the white roses

Planted out in the garden.

In a case on the kitchen table

Laced throughout my hair.

They were my favorite? They must have been

These images that keep reappearing…

These dreams that seem so real

Are the memory or imagination!

Are they from a past lover or a delusion

Am I going mad?

Am I just sad ?

Or is it the reaching fibres of a past me.

A gentle reminder,

That though this body be young

This soul is older.

It has danced with death more times then most.

Happily taken its hand, to be released.

But it’s holding on so hard to this white rose

Begging me to learn its secrets.

Calling to me, and speaking.

I have to find the white rose.

And know it’s meaning!

The English major in me thinks white…

Purity, unblemished, and soft

The historian in me thinks…

Tudor vs Yorks.

But I dare not think myself so important.

Just a girl who loved roses. Even in this life

Though these days I’ve matured to red.

The deep color of the petals.

The sharper scent.

A harsh contrast to the white I see when I am dreaming.

Why a white rose?

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About the Creator

Lane Burns

I’ve always wanted to be a writer. I’m still just finding my voice and coming to believe that I can do this again. I like writing poetry and darker fiction. As well as some fan fictions!

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