They ran out of daisies,
Jubilant and sunny,
Traded for twinkling pocket coins.
An easy choice.
So instead opt for not a flimsy
Meadow sprout from the bank
of a shallow spring,
Clear for display of the colorful stones lying beneath,
But of something more.
A forest.
With trees of burgundy oak knots,
Interwoven with chocolate swirls in Spiraling trails
Up to the low, shadowed canopies.
Follow the brush-covered path;
Listen to the twigs crack beneath your feet
And the heavy eeriness of silence belittling you.
Frosty emerald patches of leaf
and petals full as lips,
Enticing crimson stones,
Softened as melted honey glass, Gently flowing.
Take caution of the thorns,
For the ones that make loving Impressions
Often have the most defenses.
Beautiful and dark,
Dangerous and worthwhile,
like the ghosted cherry cordial
Kisses still feathered across your neck;
Watch the vine's tendrils 'fore they Coil and cut into your ankles.
Even if you fail to succeed, you may still be able to join her.
For much like the prettiest flowers,
The best people are first
to be so carelessly plucked from the Earth.
Repotted, you may place the flowers before her headstone,
A tear to help it grow,
On your knees as the air whisps about you and you can only hope it's
Her.
YOU ARE READING
Poems
PoetryJust a collection of poems I wrote, most have darker themes, so here's your angst/trigger warning if you need it. I write these on a pc so if the format looks weird on your phone that's probably why.
