With the setting sun, the dreams of flowers come to life.
The warmth of the sun fades with its light,
replaced by a star-filled blanket of night.
Petals, once spread, to capture the sun
now enfold each other. Their work is done.
Softly, a breeze intones a sweet berceuse.
Its whispering voice, designed to seduce,
hums of promised tomorrows and carries away
the perfume that has been gathered today.
Protectively holding its future within,
each grain of pollen a potential twin,
the blossom now sleeps, or so it seems,
yet deep in its heart it holds onto its dreams.
Unfettered meadows with freedom to grow;
myriad insects and bees help it sow.
Spreading its beauty in wordless song.
Finding a place in the world to belong.
As it nods in the shadows, it bids adieu
until in the morning, with the first kiss of dew,
it will once more greet the sun in the distance
and begin anew its song of existence.
An entry for "Invalid Item"
berceuse (bear-soos) – a lullaby or cradlesong
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