Red like love.
Red like lips.
Red as ever.
Red like shyness.
Red like pleasure.
Red like joy.
Red like blood.
Red like cheeks.
Red like a summer sky.
Red like anger.
Red like...
Naomi and the Red Rose
Once upon a time, there was a young red rose like no other. Shy and discreet, she did not know how to reveal herself to other eyes than those of love. We will call her Naomi.
She lived discreetly but romantic. Hidden in a deep forest of thorns. Nothing was darker than this forest, only the brilliance of her petals could shed light in this world of discretion.
Unfortunately, loneliness is a heavy burden. She set out to discover the world. She knew the sweetness of these petals would warm many hearts, and that her color too would know how to light a flame in the most humid eyes.
Such a portrait could make you fragile or weak But that does not matter. She knows how to defend herself; behind her red silk flannels hide thorns and unfailing resistance, who if rubs so stings.
But enough of this description, let's resume our romantic epic. We said we would be discovering the world, and making it more beautiful. It is with a sure step that our delicate heroine traveled the world colonizing the hearts one after the other.
So Naomi arrived again in a forest where there lived a recluse a sweet but nevertheless sad young girl. It was in an instant that the magic happened. The red of the delicate one won the cheeks of the beautiful maiden. A fiery red lit up the lips. It was almost instantly that a crystalline tear beaded on the reddened cheeks of the beautiful comforted. It was not a tear of sadness but of joy. The joy of feeling your heart beating again.
The tear slid down her cheek, a little like a mountain torrent swollen by the melting of spring snows which the rediscovered sun hastens to melt. The drop of joy ends up suspended as if in levitation at the end of the mischievous chin of the beautiful. She decided despite everything to detach herself to finish her sinuous race on the edge of a red petal. We could have seen a drop of dew on a fresh blooming rose in the morning.
Could it be the brilliance of the red increased by the brilliance of the tear or the delicate roundness of the tear that caused this great upheaval? I could not certify it to you but whatever it was, in a flash of thunder, a freshness invaded the forest.
When suddenly one thing brushed our sweet young girl's shoulder and then another brushed her hair. She looked up at the sky it was a rain of Red Naomi! roses.
But what to do when the streams fill with red roses? Quickly cover us! The forest was generous and offered our beauty an umbrella of greenery. Not like a parasol, am I stupid, it was a pararose. She was falling in driving rain as if the red roses wanted to flood the forest with love.
Feet in the water but head dry. The girl waited for the end of the downpour. Then she took her happiness in both hands and decided to find the world determined to be in love.
Red Naomi! is the Rose of Fairy Tales
The Porta Nova Red Naomi! is the rose of fairy tales. Your fairy tales. We, florists, are the ink our customers use to write their own stories. We are the discreet witnesses of their love. Always present but invisible. So let's shine by our absence and write the most beautiful love story, their love stories...
Many thanks to Porta Nova for the roses, Oasis Product France, Duif Flowers, and my friends Alexandre Robert, Caroline Robert, Maroussia Robert, Alex Roy, Christine Quemener, Nicolas Manzoni, and Julia Janet.
Photography by Nicolas Manzoni from GraféO.
