It’s Poetry Friday! Today Amy is our gracious host, rounding up everyone’s posts at The Poem Farm. Be sure to stop by for lots of poetry goodness.
Earlier this week I had the privilege of attending a UCLA Extension class on writing poetry for children led by our own April Halprin Wayland. What a wonderful way to spend a few hours! April wasted no time in getting us outside in nature where we could notice, reflect, and find emotion.
In late fall my garden is not at its best, but I marveled at the few last blooms on the rose bushes. I recorded facts, feelings, and connections that resulted from observing the blooms. In just a few minutes I noted the softness of the petals, the sharp thorns, the different shades of green in the leaves, the sweet smell. I remembered rose scented soap, and the pink ears of my childhood cat. These connections led to poems that were revised throughout the class. This one came from wondering about a bud that was still tightly curled, as if wanting to wait for the perfect day to reveal itself, and a question I jotted: Will the bud unfurl slowly?
September Rosebud
You’re the last of your bunch,
not quite ready to call it quits.
Will you take your time unfurling
petal
by petal
by velvety-soft petal,
greeting the sun,
meeting each last best day,
lingering long
before the frost?
I hope so.
Draft, RoseCappelli2025
If you have an opportunity to take a class from April, please don’t hesitate. She values community and encourages trying things out to see how they fit.
Imagine the Possibilities 
Hope your bud lingers too, lovely and sensitive poem Rose, thanks!
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Rose, your class with April sounds wonderful. How true that rose petals are similar to cat’s ears. What a lovely observation and poem! I can just feel that last rose waiting for the exact right moment to delight us.
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Thanks. April’s class was a lot of fun!
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Happy to hear you enjoyed April’s class!! What a lovely rosebud poem; like the idea of a slow unfurling, extending the beauty.
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Thanks, Jama!
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Oh I hope so too! Each day this late September, a new dahlia is revealing itself, and I am again and again surprised. I adore those repeating petal lines and also “each last best day.” We have been fortunate in Western New York. The best days keep coming, at least weatherwise, and for this I am thankful. xo, a.
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How lovely and poignant – a record of sweetness lingering. I, too, am not ready to call it quits.
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Oh I love the petal-by-petal-by-velvety-soft-petal and the line breaks! And the lingering!
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Thank you, Patricia!
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Rose, I wanted to take April’s class but I forgot to make a reservation and I would have had to leave early to go to a meeting. I am glad that you mentioned this class. I will need to follow-up with details for the next time frame. The data you recorded was descriptive, making your poem stronger. There is a lovely message of hope at the end. Have a wonderful time in your garden. My mint overflowed in my herb garden and took over the entire garden. The gardener and I tried to remove the mint so other herbs and flowers could be placed without being choked but the mint was too entrenched in the earth.
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Good luck with the mint! It’s lovely to smell and taste, but very difficult to control.
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The mystery involves how did the mint move from my pots to the earth.
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Lovely love song to the rose bud. I’m happy you had the chance to work with April.
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Lovely love song to the rose bud. I’m happy you had the chance to work with April.
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Lovely love song to the rose bud. I’m happy you had the chance to work with April.
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“petal
by petal
by velvety-soft petal,”
I can feel that velvety softness and the repetition here created the image of those petals slowing falling away. Lovely, Rose! Thanks for sharing the last of your roses with us. 🙂
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A rose from Rose… how perfect! Nature really inspires me too. I am always in awe of the roses that seem to linger and are still intent on blossoming despite the harsh conditions. Beautiful words for a beautiful lesson here. Thank you!
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Ah, darling rosebud…you bring up the last of a season of sunshine. Thank you for being the punctuation we needed in late September.
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Your response is a poem, Linda! Love thinking about the last of the blooms as punctuation. the end marks of the season. Thank you.
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What a perfect description of Fall, or of a life well-lived: “each last best day” Thank you!
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Oh, I adore April, and her open eyes/heart/ears to everything. Thank you for sharing your lovely poem inspired by her class. I’ve been trying to appreciate the knockout roses here which are still knocking out red roses, but the bushes and branches are looking scraggly. This phrase in your post, “rose scented soap, and the pink ears of my childhood cat” made my heart smile – thank you! :0) Robyn HB
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Lovely, Rose. “each last best day” brought a tear to my eyes! That line reminds me of my mom; ten years ago we had such a nice fall together.
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Oh, I love how tenderly you speak to the bud! Here’s to opening!
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