Delicate Flower

A description of a stranger i have since met.

She sits in the corner of the room

Wondering and pondering

Of pasts and presents

Of maybes and never mores

Listening to the lighting strike and thunder roll

She sits their listening to the pounding rain.

Thinking of what ifs and maybes.

 

 

She is delicate, like a flower.

Beautiful like a rose.

Vibrant like life

And as wonderful as love.

 

 

She is a siren

Singing and dancing to the pied pipers tune.

Living and breathing wisdom and joy.

She speaks the written word.

And too becomes the written word.

And thus, immortal.

 

 

She wonders to herself.

In the most crooked manner.

Her worth

The worth she sees not quite

Yet all those who look upon her.

Fall,

Fall like dear old Lucifer.

 

 

I mean, after all.

She is a delicate flower of spinning hair and sweet smiles.

Eyes of the great chimera shinning like pale suns.

And a face drawn by the goddess Aphrodite herself.

How can one not fall.

For such a Rose of Earths garden.

How can you resist such a Sirens call?

Hell, why would you want too? 

Author's Note

all comments are appreciated!