The Picked Flower

The Picked Flower

 

I picked a flower,

Wanting it for my own.

My love wanted to shower,

Something to hold.

 

Filled with color and life.

I loved this flower so much.

I tried to keep it in the sunlight

And show it love.

 

Savoring its smell,

I enjoyed its presence.

But time would tell,

And the way of life couldn’t resist.

 

For little by little, though I gave it all my attention,

It began to wilt and its color began to fade.

All my love and affection

Could not make it stay.

 

It left me, though I didn’t want it to,

And my heart was broken into pieces.

Now I know what I must do,

As my hurt increases.

 

I took the flower back to its place,

So it can thrive in its truth.

As the former picked flower rejuvenates,

Maybe, in letting go… my heart too, can bloom.

Reviews

[andrew mitchell]

There was a message here, one cannot cut life from another to selfishly enjoy for that life will die but admire its beauty where it is and see the growth and splendour.

[Melinda McQueen]

Thanks for your visit.

[Coyote Poetry]

I liked the journey in the poem. I liked how you used the flower to demonstrate life and thoughts. I liked the ending dear Melinda. I liked the hope in the ending. Thank you for sharing the amazing poetry.
Coyote

[Melinda McQueen]

Thanks for your visit.

[Coyote Poetry]

You are welcome Melinda.

[wordman]

just as we do,we live forever

[Melinda McQueen]

Thank you for reading.

[Laura Lynn Close]

interesting idea that a picked flower rejuvenates, like carnations or the wilted celery made straight again in its vase of water, I want to rejuvenate, water gives us life and energy!