Cloves and Roses

He set the rose on the table,
his nose bright red.
A smile on his face, he bowed
and stepped back.
The rose was watered with beer,
by the waiter who smiled,
and had a normal colored nose.

Clove flavored beer on the stone table,
the glass slowly flowing toward the ground.
I watch as the rose dries and
turns to dust as it sits on the granite top.
The beer evaporates into the air as
time continues to move on.

The glass flows downward over centuries
until it is only a puddle
resting before us
and the rest of the world has died.

About Fatesjoke

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This entry was posted in Poems, Poetry, UDPS. Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to Cloves and Roses

  1. Kavita says:

    Whoaaa!!! That was absolutely fantastic!!!
    A dried rose? Evaporated beer? A puddle?!?!? Good God! What an amazing wordplay here! This poem is marvelously well-written!
    Keep those awesome verses flowing…

  2. deadpoet88 says:

    Great poem! I was wondering where you were going with it once I started reading, and the ending is just wonderful. It made me think of “One Hundred Years of Solitude” by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. Nicely done!

  3. Fatesjoke03 says:

    Thanks, “One Hundred Years of Solitude” is actually on my reading list. One of my professors speaks very highly of it.

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