A Frozen Flower and Me


A poster with twelve species of flowers or clu...
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I found a
frozen flower,

As I walked
beside the pond,

Its petals
spoke of summer,

Its fragrance
lingered on,

I picked it
up gently,

For I feared it would break,

I whispered
to it softly,

Perchance it
would awake,

Its petals
softened one by one,

Within my
warming hand,

I thought I
saw the blossom smile,

At first I
did not understand,

But the
reason became clear,

As it gave a
blissful gasp,

I had freed
it from its prison,

And loosed
the icy grasp,

What meaning
could there be,

As I
compared the flower to me,

What could I learn from one flower,

When I freed
its awesome power?

 

Our words
were warm but empty,

As we walked
beside the pond,

We spoke of
our love in summer,

And now the
memory lingers on,

Our love was
so much like a flower,

With petals
soft and warm,

It had
flourished in the summer,

But dared
not face fall’s storm,

When an icy
wind began to prowl,

Slipping
around corners while it kissed the air,

Our love
couldn’t stand the chill,

As summer
gave way to the cold,

Words alone wouldn’t warm the heart,

We had been
so very good together,

But we could
not last apart,

If we just
look past winter,

With the
first advent of spring,

Perhaps our
love will blossom again,

And we’ll
see what fruits it’ll bring.

 

 

One Lonely Rose


One Lonely Rose

One lonely rose greeted me,

I didn’t know why she left our home,

Beneath my window this morn,

It was not logical to be in the world alone,

She tugged her petals closer,

She always forgot to bring her coat and mitts,

While shivering in the storm,

If she needed warmth she wouldn’t admit it,

Her head drooped slightly,

I could tell she was tired and ill,

As she leaned into the rain,

I knew she struggled paying bills,

Against the winds, the mighty winds,

But she had to prove she had the will,

She was determined to remain,

She made it clear I was unneeded still,

Expecting the worst when all had ceased,

Surely after months my love she would lack,

I hesitated before I glanced outside,

Her world must be out of whack!

The delicate rose remained there still,

She did not want me to bring her back,

Bursting with fragrant pride,

Her pride will be her downfall,

I admired her courage as she stood alone,

She had heard freedom’s call,

Smiling as she stood sentinel tall,

She had no intention of giving in, none at all,

Knowing the other roses were gone,

Even to lose love she chose not to bend,

She waited bravely to face the first snowfall.

She would be independent until the end.

(Sometimes in poetry the story is between the lines.)

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