Blue Rose Garden

[tectak]

Thanks for reading my poem! =)
This is an excellent edit. The piece was crying out for todd. I am possibly entering dangerous territory if I crit on but I must have a horticultural poke at the piece if only to prove I read it
First Edit:
[b]Blue Rose Gardenuh2

Blue roses need neither water nor soil First off, forget the gcse english convention of capitalising each line. It was never a good idea and is largely out of fashion.
To prosper; amidst bushes, on the walls. Knock off the capital on "to prosper" and it prevents the cliff fall after soil.
Floating coy leaflets, morning dew;Very nice. But why line change after "daydream" ? You lose rhythm and a "natural"rhyme, dew-hue. Horticulturally, I am a bit unsure where the misleading "bulbs" fit in. Roses with bulbs?
Bulbs, with petals of daydream
Hue, folded in divine manner
Like demure girls, wanting hugs. ThornlessThere is something experimentally gratuitous about this use of enjambment. It is neither attractive nor required. The capitals at line start emphasises the jerkiness
Treasures, flourish with hopes and dreams,
All in the blue rose garden.

Boundless, blooming roses,
Soaring above, resting below,
Glitters of sapphire, under a Sun that
Never sets. The garden, evergreen, diffuses a scent,
Youthful, passionate, brimming with life. All is opinion but you are making your own cliches in this stanza....plus some others that are well established Frankly, I am up to here with bloody roses

Until the reverie shatters.
Inspiration dries and hope thins,
Lush, astral flora, give way to cement Getting a little padded out now. You have dropped the undercarraige and are beginning final approach....don't overshoot the runway. Oh, and what is "astral" flora. Sounds like margarine of the gods. My problem but I don't get it.
Gray, to stale apathy. When maturity spread
Wilting curses, when the roses all fall, buried under
Asphalt, when the garden shrinks, slowly, until it
Implodes. Death, of creativity, of the soul. Too many whens especially in one sentence . A missed opportunity here to glide in to what is a very nice closing line.
Good linkage to the first line but a little hasty in its touchdown. The passengers may complain. Enough of this metaphor, already. You were flying
Blue roses, needing dreams and aspirations
To stay alive.


Original:
Blue Rose Garden

Blue roses, needing neither water nor soil
To prosper. They grow, amidst bushes, on the walls,
In mid-air. Floating, they look prettiest. Coy leaflets, morning dew,
Accentuate the allure. Bulbs, with petals of
Daydream hue, folded in divine manner
Like demure girls, wanting hugs. Thornless
Blue roses, flourish with hopes and dreams,
All in the blue rose garden.

Boundless garden, blooming roses,
Floating around, soaring above, resting below,
Far as eyes can see, glitters of sapphire, under a Sun that
Never sets. The garden, evergreen, diffuses a scent,
Youthful, passionate, brimming with life.
Boundless garden, blooming roses,

Until the reverie shatters.
When inspiration runs dry, hope runs thin,
Lush greenery, astral flora, give way to
Cement gray, to stale apathy. When maturity spread
Wilting curses, when the roses all fall, buried under the
Asphalt, when the garden shrinks, slowly, until it
Implodes. Death, of the senses, of creativity, of the soul.
Blue roses, needing dreams and aspirations
To stay alive.