The crimson rose

My mother and I both love roses. We have an abundance of beautifully coloured roses in our garden and on our pavement. During the summer months, the subtle perfume of roses permeates the air all along our pathway down to the swimming pool. Bees are very attracted to the roses and their soft humming fills the air during the stiflingly hot days over the Christmas period.

Last Christmas I made the three tiered cake featured below. I decorated this cake with 29 open roses in pink, white and yellow which I dusted with edible shimmer powder in the same colour as the rose.

20151122_172921-2 We have recently added a very dark crimson rose to our display. This dark and dusky blossom inspired me to write the following poem.

The crimson rose

 The crimson rose;

Stands tall and alone;

A stately queen;

On a deep green throne.


Surrounded by guards;

Thorns barbed and fierce;

Unsuspecting fingers;

They harshly pierce.


Each delicate petal;

With a texture of velvet;

Such stately splendor;

We surely must covet.


What secret thoughts;

Does this artistry invoke;

What wicked actions;

Such mystery must revoke.


Its cloying fragrance;

Permeates each breath;

It brings to mind;

Thoughts of peaceful death.


by Robbie Cheadle



2 thoughts on “The crimson rose

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