She ran with wilted roses
Heart-wrenchingly clutched in her hand
As each petal freed itself
It shrieked before it would land
And what was this before her?
but….a backtracking map!
Leading to worlds once explored,
Long before she knew what she had.
Wild peppers growing in my grandparents pasture. Love the clash of red against the brilliant green and rustic old west wood fence.
A few photos I took out at my grandparents home in the country. Eerily beautiful…
If you have seen my Photography I assume you have noticed I am quite fond of the outdoors. However, despite the time i spend outside, I am naturally very fair skinned, being the Victorian Girl that I am 😉 (I should start carrying a parasol around with me). Usually upon doing any activity that requires extensive time outside I will wear sunscreen, however I cannot stand the smell of sunscreen, nor do I like the feel of it on my body. So yesterday I went out for a bit to relax before studying for my finals, and in the midst of enjoying the sunshine, I somehow fell asleep in the grass, on my tummy. The following day upon walking past my mirror in my birthday suit, I noticed that somehow I was wearing burlesque stockings that I did not put on. After taking a double take and touching the tights, I in fact realized that the burlesque tights were my tanned, and sun burnt skin. Of all my unusual sunburns I believe this was the most creative. (btw, I was wearing shorts when I got the tan). Now for my next artistic venture I will cut out little bows on adhesive paper, place them right along my tan line, and lay out in the sun once again. If anyone asks, they will be told that the entire endeavor was planned…
She waits elegantly for an unsuspecting victim… a deadly surprise!
Look how beautiful it is, each dip, each fold, the softness of its color, it is perfect. But I think what makes a rose so perfect is its imperfections. No petal is alike, or perfectly even, each rose looks different, yet they all have such a magnetic purity about them, that we deem them as being perfect. Its petals lift up and pucker, like soft lips, ready for a kiss of acceptance.