Valentines Day 2013 Roses Romance Story

Rules
We have noticed that some of the newer rose names seem to come straight out of a romance novel. We will be featuring some of these new varieties with their pictures in the days leading up to Valentine’s. On February 13th and 14th, submit a romantic vignette using two rose names per sentence. Prize is 100 dollars worth of Hallie’s Garden Flowers, to be used all at once or as an ongoing gift certificate, whichever you prefer. Below is the complete list of rose names to use. Have fun.

Greatful, Tara, Hearts, Twilight, Sweet Elegance, Touchee, Star Dust, Amsterdam, Señorita, Nirvana, Snowy Jewels, Precious Moments, White Dove, Imagination, Nectarin, Hot Merengue, Nature Cherry, Circus, Free Spirit, and last but not least, Green Tea.

(Note: Some of these rose names have unusual spelling or construction. Feel free to add an e or an apostrophe where necessary)

#1. By Peter Kaufman

Precious Moments using my Imagination

The Senorita flew all night to Amsterdam,
She was a Free Spirit, eternally Greatful…but on the lam.
She strutted down the street past the Star Dust and Hearts
It was Nirvana hanging with Tara…at least at the start.

Around Twilight she found the club called Touchee (that’s slang),
There was a Circus inside, full of sweet Hot Merengue.
“What’s your pleasure, Snowy Jewel?” asked the menacing White Dove.
“She’ll have Green Tea, not Nature Cherry,” came a voice from above.

No matter if your owner named you Sweet Elegance or Nectarin there’s one thing to know,
The Affenpinscher named Banana Joe just won “Best in Show”.

#2. By Inez Keller

In Amsterdam, we lived our own Precious Moments.
July summer Twilight, with its welcome Sweet Elegance.

Oh, Star Dust showing the Snowy Jewels that we love!
Senorita is as happy as a partnered White Dove.

Imagination soars in this Free Spirit place.
Our Hearts find Nirvana, just look at my face!

Tara beckons us to its Mature Cherry lanes.
Nectarins aren’t peaches; Touchee, she explained!

Dancing Hot Merengue follows a cup of Green Tea.
Romance is a Circus; how Greatful are we?

#3 By Nancy Meyer

My dearest mom just passed away at 92 years of age…my dad ( who died 17 years ago) would make sure that when their beautiful rose gardens were all in bloom that he brought her a rose every day..usually a double delight rose. When he died, each family member got a double delight rose bush to carry on the tradition in their families…and when my mom became unable to live alone and lived in an assisted living home, she had fresh roses in her room until the day she passed away. At her small family funeral last week, each person held a double delight rose and then left it with her at the end…so you see, our family in so steeped in the flower tradition ( we send for everything). If I could name a rose for this , it would be “devotion” as it speaks for the love surrounding our precious family. (Note from Hallie’s Garden: there is in fact a rose named Devotion…I think it is a creamy ivory color.)

#4. By Shelley Reback

Tara put down the book with a mournful sigh and whispered to her friend, “Jeri, will I ever find a love like Edward and Bella had in Twilight?”
Jeri rolled her eyes at her library companion and whispered back, “just look around you and use your imagination — with that, and perhaps a bit of fairy dust, or whatever the current magical craze is, I’m sure you can find someone among our oh-so-attractive college classmates who would be willing to show you Nirvana, but hopefully not by draining out all your blood in the process.” Pointedly lifting the text book in front of her, Jeri continued, “Now I have to study for our Spanish exam, Señorita, and I would advise you to do the same since we are supposed to meet Angela at the White Dove in a half hour.”
Sipping her green tea at the café an hour later, and greatful for the warmth that was coursing through her veins after the short walk through the snow covered streets, Tara remained distracted by thoughts of true love when she looked up, and suddenly, there he was. Although she had never seen him before — that handsome young man with the dark hair and clear blue eyes that were set off perfectly against his nectarine-colored shirt — it was as if their hearts beat as one. When he started towards her like a predator who just scented his prey, Angela noticed and, with a poke of her elbow to Tara’s side, said in a slightly too-loud voice, “Who is that Hot Merengue coming towards you and looking for all the world like he’s after your nature cherry?”
But Tara, so mesmerized by the sweet elegance of his graceful, yet very masculine stride, did not even have time to be embarrassed by the remarks of her free spirit friend, before HE was standing directly in front of her.
“Hello,” he murmured seductively in his smooth as silk voice with a slight lilting, musical accent, “I am Aleksander de Graaf, a recent exchange student from Amsterdam, and though I do not yet know your name, I saw those beautiful, intelligent hazel eyes that glisten like snowy jewels gazing at me from across the room, and I knew I had to meet you.”
Noticing the appalled glances of her friends as she stood up and took Aleksander’s warm outstretched hand¸ Tara said to them over her shoulder, unable to tear her eyes away from his, “Don’t look so surprised, girls, I’m not running off to the circus, just going to get to know my new friend and,” she smiled shyly but yet with noticeable heat, “to hopefully create some precious moments with him.”
As the couple walked away arm in arm, Jeri murmured to herself, “Touchée, my girl, and I am definitely going to get myself some of that fairy dust or star dust or whatever you must have used, and maybe even read those vampire books” — pause – “well, maybe not that –” she noticed that Aleksander was now leaning in close to Tara, hanging on her every word, “well, not yet anyway……”

#5. By Jennifer Costa

In her imagination, Tara was a free spirit—a circus perfomer named White Dove, flying high on the trapeze in a costume that looked as if it were made entirely of snowy jewels and star dust. Or she was a sexy senorita, stopping the hearts of all who caught a glimpse of her hot merengue. Or, some days she was an international spy, trench-coated on an Amsterdam street corner, waiting for a whispered exchange—him: “Nature, Cherry?” her: “Touchee”—with her dashing, doomed counterpart.
The sweet elegance of these imaginings carried her through her days of carpools, hurried dinners and piled-up deadlines. In reality, Tara was grateful for her kitchen table and the hush of twilight—precious moments when her teenagers weren’t arguing or blasting Nirvana and she could enjoy a freshly peeled nectarine and a hot mug of green tea.

#6. By Carl Tripp

I am lying back on the bed in this boarding house in TOUCHEE, Montana and I am missing TARA. The time we spent in AMSTERDAM when those gentle white flakes fell from the sky and landed on her hair, glistening like SNOWY JEWELS. We ran into the house, my FREE SPIRIT and I, our HEARTS beating. We laughed and warmed up with some GREEN TEA and HOT MERENGUE pie. Such wonderful memories I will cherish forever!
Later that year, I drove south of the border with my special SENORITA listening to NIRVANA on the radio. At TWILIGHT we spotted a CIRCUS lighting up a park. A peculiar sight to behold, I thought it was my IMAGINATION or perhaps someone had sprinkled STAR DUST in my eyes. We entered the festival slurping on NECTARINE and NATURE CHERRY snowcones. It was a PRECIOUS MOMENT seeing her eyes laugh as we watched a magic act with a black rabbit and a WHITE DOVE . I will always be GREATFUL (GRATEFUL) for her SWEET ELEGANCE. Ah, what times! Will I ever see my true love again?

#7. By Tacy Taylor

Shortly before twilight, he strolled the streets of Amsterdam. Lost in imagination, he absentmindedly kicked a nectarine down the gutter. All around him the snow fell like star dust, turning the street lamps into snowy jewels. In the distance he could hear the squeals of grateful children at the Circus, laughing and cheering with each performance. A neon sign flashing “Hot Merengue” beckoned to him from the corner and he ducked into the darkened doorway with a sigh, searching for solace in the alcohol and music fueled nirvana. Adjusting to the dim light, his gaze fell on a tempting woman dressed in a gown as red as nature’s cherry with eyes as clear as green tea. Making his way toward her, he sensed the distraction of her free spirit, but could not deny his attraction to her sweet elegance. “Señorita,” he mumbled, “you make my nerves flutter like a white dove.” “Call me Tara, and let’s not be letting our hearts get involved” she said with a smirk and a twirl, leading him to the center of the room. “Touché,” he mumbled, and resolved himself to an evening of fleeting precious moments, wrapped in her arms on the dance floor.

#8. By Barrett Zinderman

It was approaching the twilight hour while I was lying in bed drinking my green tea, thinking about how greatful I am to have you in my life.
My imagination was running wild, remembering all the precious moments we’ve shared over the years.
Remember when we were in Amsterdam lying down on the blanket, looking up at the sky? We were trying to figure out
if we were seeing shooting stars or star dust raining from the sky when out of nowhere that white dove flew over us? I can still hear
your infectious laughter.
The other beautiful memory I have is when we were in Mexico and Senorita Tara read our palms. She told you you were a free spirit and had a
sweet elegance about you. Agreeing with her I said, Touchee! She told us that our hearts belong together, and it was that moment when I took out the snowy jewel of a ring,
got down on one knee and asked you to marry me.
Luckily you said yes, then insisted we celebrate by going to that cute little dessert place to sample the pies for our wedding cake, narrowing it down to Nature’s Cherry, Hot Merengue or
the Nectarin – It didn’t matter to me because from the moment you said yes, it was pure Nirvana.
And it still is 50 years later. Happy Valentines Day Darling.

#9. By Tracy O’Connell

She’s an Irish Tara, Stardust in her eyes
She’s a sweet Senorita, Hot Merengue in disguise
Nature Cherry, Nectarin – her colors abound
She’s the playful Imagination of a Circus clown

A Free Spirit in Amsterdam, with nothing to hide
At Twilight I’m Greatful she’s by my side
She’s as pure as a White Dove or Snowy Jewels in a vase
Touchee, for she’s a Precious Moment each day

Sweeter than pink Conversation Hearts and warm as a cup of Green Tea
By any name she’ll always be Sweet Elegance – a rose, Nirvana to me.

#10. By Ernie Jones

When we first met my love, I was struck by your SWEET ELEGANCE and how your eye’s sparkled like they were filled with STARDUST. I remember the first time I held your gentle hand and how I felt your skin smooth as a NECTARINE and your TOUCHEE so warm.
When I travelled to AMSTERDAM and Germany for work, the warmth in each of our HEARTS helped to sustain us.
When you came to Munich to go to Oktoberfest, while the rest of us imbibed liters of “Bier”, your FREE SPIRIT led you to ask for GREEN TEA after your first liter of Radler.
We have already shared so many PRECIOUS MOMENTS, but for the record, going to see TWILIGHT was not one of them.
We have laughed together lots, like the time we were stuck in traffic and used our IMAGINATION to think up crazy scenarios, like running away to the CIRCUS, or that you were my hot SENORITA and we rhythmically danced the HOT MERENGUE. For all these reasons and more, I gave you that SNOWY JEWEL in the Aspen mountains on the fourth of July my little WHITE DOVE. You are so TARA and I am so GREATFUL I finally found you. You are NATURE”S CHERRY on top of the sundae of life, my best friend and my NIRVANA.

#11 By Maureen Phillips

While in Amsterdam, my darling husband surprised me one night with a trip to a traveling circus. He has such a sweet elegance about him and

he always uses his imagination to come up with precious moments for us to remember. We started our evening at twilight sitting in a cafe, sipping hot green tea against the frosty night. We then hurried to the ancient tent, where the air seemed shot with stardust all around us and I heard a white dove cooing softly in the darkness above.

The diamond ring he gave me when we pledged our hearts to one another, twinkled like a  snowy jewel in the dim light. As the show began, I felt  I was in nirvana sitting next to this handsome man who has the soul and heart of a free spirit.

A beautiful Senorita wearing a cape of nectarine silk was strolling through the seats selling hot merengue to the patrons.

Her smiling lips were painted as red as nature’s cherry and my husband cried “touchee!” when I dropped a dollop of the gooey confection in his lap as she passed us our treat.

I pretended to be grateful when the young lady, unclasped a pin bearing the name Tara, that was holding her wrap in place, and offered it with a knowing smile, to clean up my perfectly placed spill.

#12 by Wendi Kromash

Oh, White Dove of my Grateful heart, I beg you not to go.  These last few days together have revived me and offered a glimpse ofNirvana, each day filled with Precious Moments of ardor and passion.  Your Sweet Elegance captured my Imagination from thefirst moment I saw you. I recall that evening in the Amsterdamcafé as if it were yesterday, hear the soft strains of Star Dustplaying in the background.  It was Twilight, the air still rich with shadows, the faint scent of Green Tea brewing in the background.  Torn Nectarine peels littered the bar like ticket stubs after a show, a four-top of retirees by the window playedHearts to bide their time.  Along the street-side window, a bedraggled clown from some runaway Circus peered in and scanned the scene, paused, then looked in more intently, his nose wrinkled and bulbous like a Mature Cherry ready to explode.  The clown tried to make eye contact, but Señorita Tara shook her head dismissively and would only offer him a rueful smile. At that very instant, the massive wooden door to the café opened and you, Free Spirit of my loins, swept in with a gust of cold air, your bright eyes crinkled with laughter, diamonds glittering on your delicate earlobes like Snowy Jewels. The second our eyes locked, I was yours, but you did not capture me the way a fencer’s epee pounces at “Touché!” No, I offered myself willingly,as your acolyte, your partner, your slave, and would do so again, if only to dance the Hot Merengue with you one more time.

 

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