Poem #1

A Full Bed of Roses

The needle carouses

through strip upon strip of cloth,

spins out a dizzying

merry-go-round of roses.


Skew-centred around sun-yellow

every bloom unbuds

of its own sweet volition,

each one, new sprung, calls


for another – my Bernina purrs on

to stitch candy floss pink

or apricots and oranges

in a circle dance of fun.


Reds spell the wounds

and throb of womanhood,

rich burgundies

mute the prettiness.


Waxed youth on the wane,

I turn out rose after rose,

find there are forty-eight,

stop, and see the spell break.

Mariss Everitt



9 thoughts on “Poem #1

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s