ROSES

Roses are one of the most beautiful symbols in literature, often representing love, life, freedom and many other emotions

The Symbols of Roses in Literature

Red Roses for Love, Passion and deep Commitment

White Rosesfor Purity, Innocence and New Beginnings

Pink Roses for Youth, Earthly Love and Thankfulness

Blue Roses for Uniqueness and the Unattainable

Yellow Roses for Friendship, Freedom, Happiness and Joy

Orange Roses for Energy, Enthusiasm and a Celebration of Life

The Twin Symbols of Black Roses

A metaphor for Death, Dying and Dysfunction or Change and Positivity 

O gather me the rose, the rose, 

While yet in flower we find it, 

For summer smiles, but summer goes, 

And winter waits behind it.

The myrtle and the rose, the rose, 

The sunshine and the swallow, 

The dream that comes, the wish that goes 

The memories that follow!

Extract from - ‘O Gather Me A Rose’

By William Ernest Henley

"quae rosae dorminunt somniant”

What Roses Dream Whilst Sleeping - a short story about connection

But dear reader what do roses dream about whilst sleeping? The life span of these exquisite flowers, often known as the Flower of England, or English Rose is all too short. During the day light hours their colours and fragrance abound. They fraternise with butterflies, pollinate with bees, entice lovers and all the time continue to parade an abundant delight for the human eye.  

At night whilst many sleep, some will awaken on the celebrated strokes of midnight to join in the mystical dances of the Midnight Gardens. These are the special flowers, the ones who come alive under the stars and are equally at peace in moonlight as well as sunlight.

Every rose - whether a sleeper or a dancer - knows life is short. Opening to their full glory they exude beauty and charm, scenting the air around themselves with exquisite fragrance. Then all too soon the first light breezes begin to sway the petals back and forth, and round and round, until one by one they begin to fall to the ground, to wither and fade. Occasionally however something else occurs, when humans intervene. Regardless of the type of rose, if picked at a certain moment and placed in a small vase, always keeping a few drops of water at the base, the rose will begin to dry out, the moisture inside the flower slowly evaporating, leaving it to metamorphosis into a strange, new life form.

The transformation is remarkable, the intense colours and otherworldly shapes of the petals and stems are spellbinding. The more extreme the transformation, the more beautiful the rose becomes. In its own way this process extends the life of the flowers to a new stage of evolution, allowing them to last forever when handled with care and affection. 

It is at this stage of their lives that all roses truly sleep and it is at this stage that they float away to dream! 

Sadly not all flowers are able to do this, roses are one of the wonderful exceptions!

Presented here are six images, depicting creativity coupled with a unique understanding and sensitivity for each rose. They represent an attempt to enter the entity of the flowers and imagine what they dream about now they are in their eternal sleep. It is perhaps only fitting that we have this unique connection to the flowers as we were ultimately the ones who not only prepared them for their sleep, but carefully watched over them for many months whilst they metamorphosed into their new existence.

Each image contains the title ‘ quae rosae dorminunt somniant’ latin for ‘what roses dream whilst sleeping’.  The starry heavens, flaming sunsets, glorious summer days, abundant gardens, childhood memories, ruined edifices, glittering vases and many more, are all present. Thoughts, memories, moments, the many things the flowers would have experienced in their previous lives, have come together to form a platform through which they can now express their dreams.

Although dramatically varied in content, the theme of the eternal rose runs through all six images. Each image also leaves the viewer free to make up their own minds as to what is actually being dreamt and experienced by the flowers.

It was a long time ago.

I have almost forgotten my dream.

But it was there then,

In front of me,

Bright like a sun—

My dream.

And then the wall rose,

Rose slowly,

Slowly,

Between me and my dream.

Rose until it touched the sky—

The wall.

Extract from - ‘As I Grew Older’

By Langston Hughes

Enjoy

Alastair and Christine