deepundergroundpoetry.com
Two Beautiful Flowers
- Two Beautiful Flowers -
Too beautiful for winter’s frost,
Is, the black rose that I ever am!
Now in spring I feel not so lost…
Without cold ice, upon the land!
It hath been a hot dawning of springtime,
More like summer in its’ caressing feel…
And though the flowers art ever sublime,
This year’s spring feels somewhat unreal.
I longed for it all through the winter chill,
But that longing paled, before one other!
I remember the snow, so bleak and still,
And felt by all that starkness smothered.
For I missed my flowers, and blue sky…
And all the small joys that were not there.
Butterflies, and fireflies, and doves’ cry,
Cloudless days, with only the azure air!
But now that it is here and in full bloom,
I have wondered what it is that feels off.
Why some bright days, I feel of gloom…
Even when all the stars of night art aloft!
I sought solace in gardens and revelries,
Yet my thoughts were drawn far away…
With many daydreams and pleasantries,
That, like gray phantoms, doth not stay.
Far off, an: ivy grows in a city of sorrow,
And, I hear her cries, when she is sad…
Sometimes they fade, with the morrow.
But ever I yearn to make her feel glad!
Art we connected in the soul, like this?
Mayhap there art bonds ever deeper…
Vestiges of past lifetimes of joyful bliss,
Acted out, within life’s massive theater.
We lived, laughed, loved, and danced,
Across the ages, to our chaotic music!
Will we learn where our feet pranced?
And which lives were happy, or tragic.
We hath all of this life to discover joy,
Anew, as if it were something so rare!
For an eternal love cannot forever die,
Like spring, it endures, blossoming fair.
Too beautiful for a lifeless city,
Is the loveliness of my sweet ivy!
Hasten unto my side, my flower…
When cometh, our perfect hour!
Too beautiful for winter’s frost,
Is, the black rose that I ever am!
Now in spring I feel not so lost…
Without cold ice, upon the land!
It hath been a hot dawning of springtime,
More like summer in its’ caressing feel…
And though the flowers art ever sublime,
This year’s spring feels somewhat unreal.
I longed for it all through the winter chill,
But that longing paled, before one other!
I remember the snow, so bleak and still,
And felt by all that starkness smothered.
For I missed my flowers, and blue sky…
And all the small joys that were not there.
Butterflies, and fireflies, and doves’ cry,
Cloudless days, with only the azure air!
But now that it is here and in full bloom,
I have wondered what it is that feels off.
Why some bright days, I feel of gloom…
Even when all the stars of night art aloft!
I sought solace in gardens and revelries,
Yet my thoughts were drawn far away…
With many daydreams and pleasantries,
That, like gray phantoms, doth not stay.
Far off, an: ivy grows in a city of sorrow,
And, I hear her cries, when she is sad…
Sometimes they fade, with the morrow.
But ever I yearn to make her feel glad!
Art we connected in the soul, like this?
Mayhap there art bonds ever deeper…
Vestiges of past lifetimes of joyful bliss,
Acted out, within life’s massive theater.
We lived, laughed, loved, and danced,
Across the ages, to our chaotic music!
Will we learn where our feet pranced?
And which lives were happy, or tragic.
We hath all of this life to discover joy,
Anew, as if it were something so rare!
For an eternal love cannot forever die,
Like spring, it endures, blossoming fair.
Too beautiful for a lifeless city,
Is the loveliness of my sweet ivy!
Hasten unto my side, my flower…
When cometh, our perfect hour!
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