Poetry by Theresa Donnelly – 11/17

A Rose from Yeats

I travel the road twice over.
A pheasant skirts the hedge-
a maroon feathered guide.
I follow down his lane
to find by a stream-
the monument I venerate.

Your Tower once restored
by ‘The Celtic Twilight’ and
poems written for Maud.

Now access is denied
due to flood damage.

Judgementally impaired-
I climb the ivy-draped gate.
Greeted by bramble and sweetbriar
I step gingerly-
on borrowed courage
and dead wood.

‘William are you here?’

I cross the bridge
over culpable waters.
I understand your marriage-
of myth and magic
when I stand in this
enchanted realm.

Between light and shade,
growing strong against
the desiccated wall-
a bush of luminous
yellow tea-roses.

Symbolizing a new beginning-
your gift to George.
She saw the sun reflect
itself twice over
in their summer bloom.

Mesmerized, I jealously
claim one treasure
to have sleep on my pillow.
I prick my finger
on its thorns and cry.

You blot the scarlet ink
on a sheet of white parchment-
while the river runs copper.

The rose destined to
wither and die-
will never repeat bloom
on this century old bush.

Because I stole a gem
from your garden on a sultry-
August afternoon.

This poem was previously published in The Copperfield Review 2011 and Recurrence of Blue 2015.


Theresa Donnelly was born in Dublin, Ireland, and has lived all over the world. Her poetry has been published in Surfacing Magazine, The Copperfield Review, Tales from the Forest (an Irish publication) and The Caterpillar Magazine among many other publications. She is the author of two poetry books: Moon Witch and Other Scary Poems and Recurrence of Blue. She is a member of The Ontario Poetry Society and a founding member of The Brooklin Poetry Society. You can find her at theresadonnelly.com.