Traditional style colour tattoo of two red roses and one orange rose with green leaves on a forearm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Three roses on a forearm

Traditional · Forearm · Colour · Photo

A forearm shows three roses stacked vertically, two red and one orange-yellow, each with white highlights and dark green leaves. Bold black outlines define the petals and leaves, with smooth solid fills in red, orange and green. The arm rests against a brown leather sofa, and the tattoo fills the centre of the frame.

Traditional Forearm Rose Flower

Find an artist for this

Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Morag had meant to cut the roses back before the ferry came, but the boat was already loading at the pier and the crates were not ready. The walled garden on Skerra held three bushes against the south wall, planted by her mother the spring the lighthouse was automated. Two of them bloomed the deep red of boiled sweets. The third had come up apricot after a graft went wrong, and her mother had refused to dig it out, saying a garden should have one thing that did not follow instructions.

Keep reading

Her brother Alasdair stood at the gate with his kitbag over one shoulder, watching her work the secateurs. "They'll not survive the crossing," he said. "Nothing does, packed in a box." She said nothing, because he was probably right, and because she had already wrapped the red stems in wet newspaper and bound them with baler twine. The gulls were loud over the harbour. Somewhere below the cliff a diesel engine coughed and settled.

He asked her again, at the bottom of the gangway, why she was keeping the apricot one. It was the rarest, he said. Someone on the mainland would pay for it. She told him it would flower in March, when the island was empty and the wind came in flat off the Atlantic, and that roses did not need an audience to bother with themselves.

When the horn sounded she climbed back up the path with the secateurs in her coat pocket. In the garden a single petal had come loose from the apricot bush and lay on the wall stones, the colour of a late sunset, and she left it there for the rain to take.