Showing posts with label roses. Show all posts
Showing posts with label roses. Show all posts

Saturday, May 27, 2023

Of Roses, Again

Just as castles want
nothing to do
with other buildings--
roses don't desire
the company of other flowers.

They wield thorny branches
like maces, defending
their center. Buds
and opened roses
emerge like wise,
gorgeous princesses.

And the colors. My
God--as vivid
and stirring as flags,
as various as whims.
A gardener cultivates
flowers. A gardener
negotiates with roses,
which define their property,
own it, become green
monuments with spikes.


hans ostrom 2023

Thursday, September 27, 2018

Can't Help It

The last red rose of the year
from the Mister Lincoln tree 
lives in this here sentence,
kind of. It exists when I sniff
its luxuriant perfume and when
I tell myself the black nick
on one petal is to be preferred. 
and the petals are fluid sculptures.
Yes, I know, poets and roses,
roses and poets. Can't help it.


hans ostrom 2018

Friday, March 27, 2009

International Rhododendrons











Rhododendrons were something of a revelation to me when I moved to the Pacific Northwest. Unassuming but noble most of the year, rhododendrons blossom extravagantly in Spring.

Soon we inhabited some homes with yards that included venerable "rhodies," and I became even more intrigued by them. Many gardeners give rhodies a great deal of attention, going so far as to pluck off the dried blossoms in late Spring/early Summer. I never did that, partly out of respect for the rhodies, which seemed quite self-sufficient to me. They do grow like mad, so sometimes pruning is called for. And they like some acidic fertilizer every now and then. --And water if the weather gets real hot. Otherwise, they just flourish: part of their charm, as far as I'm concerned. They provide some nice balance to roses, which require constant care, it seems.


Rhododendrons Without A Country


Rhododendrons in Canada and the U.S.
may be aware of a lot, but they don't know
they're Canadian or American. They're
even undecided about whether to be trees
or shrubs. Unsurprisingly, then, they bloom
cautiously. Vivid swatches of color peek
through grenade-size buds and give Spring
a good hard look to see if it's serious or
a double-agent working for Winter.

Rhododendrons never carry a passport
or negotiate treaties. They're model
citizens of forests, parks, and gardens.
Their leaves are leathery, seem wise.
Rhododendrons conduct business with
sun, soil, and rain. They exhibit a
cosmopolitan poise that rises
above petty nationalism.

Copyright 2009