Flower Pickin'

The world laughs in flowers. - Thoreau

the other day

we went flower pickin'

me trying to be brave and you a vested chicken

it mattered not that the clock was tickin'

you bent down and i reached high

you plucked a gasp and i culled a sigh

your's had an axil and mine had a stem

mine spoke passion and your's mayhem

you put your's in a vase, i put mine in your heart

i wanted love and you desired art

"she loves me", i said as i pulled out another petal

water and soil can be heavy as well as musical metal

mine were new and your's were old

your's kept secrets and mine always told

your flower wilted and mine thrived

now i know how to keep us alive

tomorrow's green

today is grey

all that matters is that we both know the way

hold my hand as we look for more

don't worry, someone will hold open fertile soil's door

you pick the ones that you feel are bright

i'll pick the ones that i know are right

blooms always open at just the right height

the sun admonishes and the moon warns

truth always grows amidst doubt's sharp thorns

it doesn't matter what the ground has to say

the heavier the bloom the greater the sway

hearts of doubt, feet of clay

the best ones grow down by the bay

all we have to do is follow the spray

you got lost but i knew the way

together we made a colorful bouquet

when we went flower pickin'

the other day

.

Author's Note

"He who would have nothing to do with thorns must never attempt to gather flowers." - Thoreau