A bud (or blunder) of a thought
Roses, roses...the classic demonstration of affection. I've often contemplated what's so wonderfully romantic about them. The curve of the petals maybe? The silkiness of their touch? I'm not sure precisely why it's these little scented buds that seem to awaken inspiration.
At least they awaken mine. This in itself is ironic. I've actually never received roses as a romantic gesture. Now I'm in no way trying to evoke pity. No, this is but a passing observation. And yet, I cannot help but wonder if those who do receive them actually appreciate the significance of the gesture and the roses themselves. Maybe it's a bit overrated, you say? That depends on who you're considering. There are those who will throw a bouquet at anyone who gives them a wink. Then there are those who know that a rose is not just a rose, but stands for all the beauty and genteelness of the beloved one. It attests to her soft exquisiteness and femininity. Anyone who has read Oscar Wilde's classic about a nightingale and a rose can agree with me. Now, although that is romanticism combined with make believe (sometimes they're actually one and the same), its this type of thinking that, in my opinion, allows me to appreciate the gesture in itself. But I'm sure it's also the reason why I've never been the object of such a gesture. Now that's irony.
At least they awaken mine. This in itself is ironic. I've actually never received roses as a romantic gesture. Now I'm in no way trying to evoke pity. No, this is but a passing observation. And yet, I cannot help but wonder if those who do receive them actually appreciate the significance of the gesture and the roses themselves. Maybe it's a bit overrated, you say? That depends on who you're considering. There are those who will throw a bouquet at anyone who gives them a wink. Then there are those who know that a rose is not just a rose, but stands for all the beauty and genteelness of the beloved one. It attests to her soft exquisiteness and femininity. Anyone who has read Oscar Wilde's classic about a nightingale and a rose can agree with me. Now, although that is romanticism combined with make believe (sometimes they're actually one and the same), its this type of thinking that, in my opinion, allows me to appreciate the gesture in itself. But I'm sure it's also the reason why I've never been the object of such a gesture. Now that's irony.