Love is not a red, red rose
whose bloom lies
beyond pain-inflicting
thorns
that draw tears,
stem-plucked,
to be preserved in a vase
made of glass,
but the passion-red flower
turns dry and brittle
and finally folds.
No, love is not
a red, red rose.
Love is a laurel magnolia,
the color of purity,
glowing-soul white,
tepals gently gravitating,
cradling, a golden center,
satin-petal kisses
upon the skin,
lemony-soft scent
afloat on the breeze,
stemming from ancient origins
preceding bees,
the surrounding green,
so bright, life
supported by a sturdy-trunk base.
Yes, love is this.
Magnolia grandiflora
is true love’s name.
Poem and images ©LauraDenise
Laura Denise 
Lovely! ❤
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Nice magnolia photos. Aren’t they lovely?
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Heavenly!
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Marvelous bloom images! Where are you geographically?
In the 8th grade I climbed into a large magnolia tree in my aunt’s yard – at her beckoning – to collect blooms for the church altar. Heaven-like up among the blooms, stepping limb to limb, dropping a bloom into my aunt’s raised basket, scanning the many to choose the next one … then I came to – flat on my back on the ground, faces peering down at me. My aunt declared “enough” and took the basket to the car. That evening I sat a few pews back from the altar and noted that the blooms were not as pretty as they had been growing among the leaves … I remember saying a prayer of thanks that my chore had been cut short. In hind sight, I am also grateful for the experience of being in that tree and losing my sense of “gravity”.
Thank you for stirring up the memories with your poem.
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Thank you for sharing such a wonderful memory! These photos were taken at a time that marked one of the biggest transitions of my life, so they are a special memory for me as well. I am on the Emerald Coast in Florida, having relocated from the Midwest 5 years ago.
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Indeed a beautiful part of the planet! I’m Texan, but spent 17 years on the Florida east coast – many a drive through your area getting back to visit in Texas until I moved back.
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