Nothing But Flowers Will Do

I know, I know, just shoot me now. The rhyming is terribly forced. I realize that. I'll probably rewrite it eventually. There are two meanings to this, but I'll only give you a hint: one is a flower, one is a child. Get it? Written: May 2008.

A casual glance at
An unstable mind
I believe that
That was your cue.

"For a fresh widow, my dear,
With an aching soul,
Tell me,
Whatever can I do?"

I pulled myself together
and turned from his side,
Turned up to the sky,
Black and Blue.

I thought for a moment and said
"Not to seem
Rude but
Nothing but flowers will do."

"Nothing but flowers?"
"Yes, I'll only take flowers.
Not gold or a
Gentleman's clue."

"I knew this man well,
Explored his deep soul,
And you'll have to
Believe that it's true!"

"Year after year
No rainbow would grow
Though we wished for
Even one bright hue."

"But the Mother was barren
And we recieved nothing
And I cried and drank
Anger and rue."

"Oh, but he would not
Let that time seem wasted.
Tried until something
Grew."

"But never did he see the
Spoils of victory
Oh, he
Never even knew."

"Three days since the death
And now they are here,
The flowers I spoke of
To you."

"So please, sir, please
If a gift you must give,
Nothing but
Flowers will do."

He smiled at my courage,
This bold determination, and
This emotion I felt was
Rich and new!

He smiled at my tears
My re-beating heart
"I see;
Nothing but flowers will do."