THIS BUD’S FOR YOU : Roses Are Red. Violets Are Blue. Why Bother Talking to Each Other When Flowers Will Do?

The august Pasadenans who trundled down Colorado Boulevard in their rose-garlanded carriages on the first day of 1890 were using a now-forgotten language: the dialect of flowers.

The same genteel Victorians who put trousers over the bare mahogany legs of their pianos conveyed their blunter sentiments in a 19th-Century FTD code. A sprig of wild sorrel signaled its humorless sender’s warning: “He makes a foe who makes a jest.” A bouquet of smelly tansy meant: “I declare war against you.” A dozen dianthus said that the lovelorn sender felt “repulsed, but not in despair,” meaning he wasn’t taking no for an answer.

The blunt floral sentiment of that first Rose Parade--and all 104 since--was addressed to the frost latitudes, and it went something like this: “ We have roses in January; how d’ya like them apples?”

Though the California State Floral Assn. still sends its members a version of the old posy code (clovers for luck, chrysanthemums for sympathy), something else is in order for a society that expresses its profoundest sentiments with forward bumper stickers, talk radio and semiautomatic weapons fire. Just say it with flowers, then leave town:

Bachelor’s buttons with palm fronds: “I’m divorcing you and running off to Tahiti.”

Pruned cockscomb in a bed of thistles: “Oh yeah? Does the name John Bobbitt mean anything to you?”

Asparagus fern with potato blossoms: “Eat your vegetables! Love, Mom.”

Baby’s breath with money plant: “Where’s the child support check, you bum?”

An arrangement of bulrushes: “That guy Limbaugh is full of it, and so are you.” (Alternately, as used in New York: “Somebody ought to drop you in the river.”)

Iris: “Time for an eye exam.” (Bearded iris: “Time for an eye exam and a shave.”)

A single anthurium among dogtooth violets: “Congratulations on getting your braces off and getting rid of that lisp.”

Wild oats and wild cherry blossoms: “I’m being tested for sexually transmitted diseases, and I think you should be, too.”

Edelweiss with aspen leaves: “Want to go skiing next weekend?”

A nosegay of snowdrops: “I hear you got busted for drug smuggling.”

White camellias: “Don’t be silly, darling, it’s just a little cough.”

Cowslips in a basket of wild grasses: “Sorry you fell on that pasture patty during the company picnic.”

Prayer plant and gerbera daisies: “I’ll be back on Sunday--be sure to give the baby some of that new food.”

A sage plant: “Congratulations on making Phi Beta Kappa!”

A lotus: “Call the orthopedist--I can’t get my legs untangled.”

Lady slippers and bluebonnets: “You must accessorize better, dear.”

Poppy with weeping willow: “I just can’t get over George Bush losing the White House.”

Lemon blossoms, torch-lily and rubber plant: “I want my money back on this crummy car or I’ll set it on fire and roll it through the window of your dealership.”

Dogwood blossoms with pussy willow: “I hear there’s a job opening down at the ASPCA.”

Bridal roses and goldenrod: “Darling, we need to talk about a prenuptial agreement.”

Morning glory and nightshade: “It just won’t work out. I’m a morning person, and you think Letterman is on too early.”

Ivy and hemlock: “I won’t let you go! If you leave me, I’ll kill myself!”

A handful of chickweed: “Hey baby, hey baby, hey baby.”

Virginia creeper: “Has anybody seen Oliver North lately?”