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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2157782-Talking-To-Flowers
Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #2157782
For my children
Once, when my garden lay bare, I stood and stared, so sad
So sad inside, where loves resides, and needs to flourish glad

I found the good, then understood, the whole is built of parts
And, if so true, then something new, was needed in this heart

Around the soil I gently toiled, and saw the wasted rain
The empty sight of black and white, where no colours remain

And set my mind, to try to find, the undiscovered whole
That secret thing, that gives man wings, and completion for his soul

I would tend, this garden friend, and cultivate with zeal
To craft anew, and see it through, make something that is real

So set about, with cry and shout, and prepared my heart and ground
Gave strength to earth, and joy to birth, and planted all around

And soon my seeds were growing free, and pushing up to light
Their little tops, a wondrous crop, were dazzling to my sight

Oh there was pain, when in cruel rain, my flesh was bruised and hurt
And the heat of day did I dismay, yet did remain alert

And while they grew, I hacked and hewed, at weeds that tried to choke
Laboured and fought, till my flesh was taught, until I almost broke

For all new plants have needs, demands, and must the shade soon seek
I stretched and leaned, so they could glean, in my shadow, but left me weak

And finally, the red and green, the gold and shades of blue
Oh breathless was my frame that day, as I beheld these buds anew

They changed and climbed, and painted time, and lit the soil below
And filled the air with song and prayer, and joy I'd never known

And the sun now shone down upon, my saplings bright and soft
I glanced at the dance of their spiral ascent, as they sought the sky aloft

Now my sun had cause to shine, my rain a need to fall
For in the soil of my love and toil, three flowers now stood tall

Three blooms of peace, were now released, to fill my life with hope
And enrich my days, and light my way, when meaning seemed remote

The first was gold, bright to behold, it stood against the sky
It's stem so proud, it's petals loud, they seemed like they could fly

As sunflower climbed, I felt it's sigh, as parasites tore it's flesh
Yet not in vain, it bent and swayed, and gave shelter to the rest

My strongest flower, this giant tower, reaches for the sun
It's face ablaze, yet still afraid, to search for the sowing one

And by it's side, I saw arrive, a different kind of bloom
One that grew, but then withdrew, then sprouted much too soon

A crimson rose, with zeal it grows, and soaks nutrients around
It rambles wild, yet trembles mild, when winter comes around

So full of glee, yet, solitary, it's thorns keep all at bay
Climbing alone, it's joy undone, beauty hidden in the day

Last of all, grown in the fall, a pretty white sweet pea
With slender leaves it grows and breathes, and needs some company

Soft right through, yet determined true, it's fragrance fills the air
And though subdued and unassumed, it's innocence it shares

This little sprite, rare and contrite, embellishes the scene
Yet craves no space, just embrace, to know it has been seen

As I stood still, in the Autumn chill, and surveyed this garden wide
I trembled deep, began to weep, at neglect I caused by pride

For here I see my beloved three, these flowers of my love
Their seeds anew, they now flung true, and caught the therms above

I watched them climb, and swirl in time, taken up with ease
And knew my hopes would gently float, with their seed upon the breeze

Now my garden is complete, and I can cease to till
Because my precious flowers three have now my life fulfilled

And I if I did hide regrets inside, 'twas that I stayed away
And lost the sight of seedlings flight, as they embraced the day

I could have, should have poured out more, more rain of love on them
Wish I had knelt and so near them dwelt, and learned to be their friend

For tree, sky and ocean blue, have not moved me so much
As my dearest blossoms, young and good, with their loving gentle touch

And though one day, they will fly away, I will be sad and yet
To have shared my life with them, I declare, no regrets, no regrets, no regrets

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2157782-Talking-To-Flowers