Flowers we are
To be picked in the valley
Blowing in the wind, able to
water and sun ourselves
With a rainbow comes a new bud
A petal that will only be beautiful
for a short time
They wither and die..but each season
the wild flowers rebloom...a new life
I have lived many lives of that flower
in the field.
A flower with a body of a woman.
The beautiful face set into the petals
Short is the season, it is sorrowful
to see one of the lovely flowers not being
admired and set into a lovely vase.
The only life to live was to be blown in the
wind and a gift of an aromatic scent.
Pick a flower for me...bring it to my door
I will admire it and notice its short and
gifted life.
Do not forget to touch the petals to feel the
silkiness of its skin, not one flower overlooked
in the field.
Capture them all for me
For all of us to fill one elegant vase
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