SHE HATED FLOWERS
She hated flowers, and I wondered why
That was;
When diamonds less radiant
Diminished her gloom,
And she delighted in the fragrance of her favorite perfume.
She hated that they withered and faded,
I thought;
That their petals broke loose,
And they barely hung on.
She hated that they were thrown away,
With every trace of them gone.
They were delicate and fragile like her,
I’d say;
The kind of thing
She felt so undeserving of.
It’s such taxing work for the weary,
Simply to nurture and love.
She clung to her own greenness and vigor,
I thought.
Exquisite as they were,
They brought too much sorrow;
She detested caring for those that,
Would not need her tomorrow.
She was too oppressed to provide refuge,
I found.
I heard heartbreaking stories,
Where she had it rough.
She did the best she could, I know,
But it was just never enough.
She is every bit like the flowers,
You know,
Warms your vulnerable heart,
With kindness and grace;
Brings happy tears to your eyes,
And the most joyful smile to your face!
She regales like a queen, and she stuns,
I say;
And I love her,
As I do those flowers she hates!
Some have penetrable walls, you know;
She has padlocked iron gates
Author: Kyrian Lyndon
Top feature image by Hong Zhang from Pixabay
Black rose image by Larisa Koshkina from Pixabay
Purple rose image by GLady from Pixabay
Orange flowers image by Larisa Koshkina from Pixabay
The sun rises with
Foreboding crow caws,
While the day brings
Sirens of uncertainty.
Allergies persist.
Well, for the lilac pansies,
The snapdragons,
And the daffodils…
Oh, and the tulips in all colors,
Beautiful and bold.
We see the sun
From behind the glass.
We hear the rain.
Upstairs, there is music.
He’s singing—
Playing guitar.
Below we talk like survivors
Of dystopian madness
Taking shelter in a cave.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Are you?”
“Yes.”
The days are longer.
Open windows let in the breeze.
Outside, the trees are tall and proud.
With all their flowers,
Cherries,
And leaves.
Yet we—
We are powerless,
Our illusion of safety
Violated once more.
Oh, but the birds chirp in a frenzy!
Come play.
The earth is alive!
We need to laugh and
To cry.
Everything is tragic
And beautiful.
But some have no one to talk to,
Little, if anything, to eat,
No way to get well,
And nowhere to hide.
Others rise to an occasion
They never could have fathomed,
Working toward their lifelong dream
With infinite empathy.
Does it wreak desolation?
We don’t even know the extent
Of how harsh life can be.
People die for greed.
Dreaded knock on the door now.
No one should come here—
Maybe not for a while.
Uneasy eyes
Behind masked faces.
Down the stairwells then,
One flight at a time,
I go beyond the door,
Where the world is.
Experience it once more,
For a short time.
The sun is bright
Across a vivid blue sky.
There’s the scent of fresh-cut grass
And the sweet caress of the wind.
It’s like a summer day
With pillowy clouds
And butterflies.
The world’s magnificent beauty.
Then it’s back to the safe place.
Do you have one of those?
A safe place to be?
I hope you do.
Because the stars are still there at night,
Like the glorious moon.
I watch them as I hope
Things get better.
Like they always did before,
At least, for a little while.
Kyrian Lyndon 