Edge of Reality

I clicked on this wonderfully beautiful poem posted by a blogging friend after I had been reminiscing about a white silk rose corsage wrapped in a little piece of lace I bought for my mom in 1986 from a gas station counter. I’m almost ashamed to admit it was a last minute purchase, but I didn’t know until right before the trip that I was going to get to be home for Mother’s Day. My Mom acted like it was the finest corsage one could buy and wore it with pride to church and all Sunday afternoon during our family gathering. I was so thrilled that she liked it and wore it all day. I was totally thrilled when Mother’s Day came in 1987 and I saw that she had saved it in such a way that she could wear it again the next year in memory of her own mother, my sweet Granny Gilley.
I hope you enjoy my friend’s poem as much as I.

Freeda Baker Nichols

White rose

Her rose corsage for Mother’s Day,
an icy spray
of petals neat
though bittersweet,
with old and ruffled strip of silk
the shade of milk
tied softly there
in tender care.
That instant my bright blossoms bled
a velvet red
when I caught sight
of hers, frost-white.

© Copyright, Freeda Baker Nichols

Second Place Luncheon Award, Poetry Day, 2000
Poets’ Roundtable of Arkansas, U.S.A.
Published Poets’ Roundtable of Arkansas Anthology 2002

 

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