Flowers

Flowers - a photo essay

An Afternoon in the Garden....

Silence.

The garden comes alive.

It's time to pin

those dancing thoughts

on tiny butterflies

flitting 

from flower to flower,

and see the patterns,

the colours and bends,

enticing visitors

to drown in

the joy

of simply being,

of doing nothing.

Oh! What would it take for me

to pick up a pen

and follow you

as you lead me home?

 

 

 

A String of Flowers

A string of flowers
brings a smile,
I want to wear them,
I want to smell them,
I want to gift them
to someone I love;
and then I see
the fragile string -
hidden,
pierced,
knotted,
that hold the flowers
with love.

Weeds and Flowers

I thought
I planted flowers,
but what grew out
were weeds;
I wept, I tugged,
and climbed down
to the roots -
to the fragrant, dark earth
from where both
grew side by side,
fragile. resilient.
sprouts of love.

Looking for a rose

walking in the garden,
looking for a special rose,
blind to all the love and joy,
in the wild flowers, waiting close.

The Florist

I watched him pick
a bunch of flowers,
orchids and roses,
with hands of love.

I watched him smile
as he created his art,
touching each with joy,
as he picked each part.

Petals and thorns
pruned and shaved,
gathering joy,
a gift of love, he made.

What is it, I wonder,
in a bunch of flowers,
that brings a smile
to every heart?