A poem inspired by the Victorian flower symbolism of violets meaning faithfulness
|Roses are red, violets are blue - |
Their love is true.
Nestled amongst heart-shaped leaves of rich green,
Violets stand out from the gold blooms in spring often seen.
Yet, as vibrant, as beautiful.
When other flowers close at rain or a galey blast,
Violets constantly show their faces, staying steadfast.
Protecting their loveliness, violets wisely crouch low,
Lasting longer than frailer flowers that raise stately heads for a short show.
Fidelity is a hard path. No mistrusting-
It’s strength is in trusting.
To hold true to love, indomitable, though
Storms may wrench and blow.
Low, easily overlooked, often the grass encloses
Modest violets. Yet, their sweet scent rivals roses.
Fortunate are those who notice violets in a hedgeside.
They bless those that care to bide
To appreciate them on their way.
Even if out of sight, violets wait patiently,
Coming out each spring faithfully.
Every year they appear, forming clumps, slowly increasing.
Folded hoods of buds open, releasing
Flowers the regal hue of a dusky cloud -
With a subtle purple the rounded star-shaped flowers are endowed.
Branches of darker veins paint the lower petals.
Ringed with fire, each flower heart is white to its sepals.
Watching the sun with a cluster of tiny amethyst faces,
Violets ornament the woodland in enduring grace.
The devoted treasure of spring, a quiet blessing.
Choosing the way of gentleness, the comforting violet will bring
A lesson in devotion and a haven of solace.