Flower

[angellus_noctis]

Flower
Was in love the seed was planted
The moment of pleasure granted
This small miracle that is mine
To nurture in darkness for nine
And from that seed roots shall uncurl
And from that moment my whole world
Revolves around the precious green spark
That upon my heart has made its mark
From the dark springs the flower in this room of white
Not the smell of earth but an antiseptic bite
In a world muted concrete gray
Grows my precious flower today
I pray through winter that the colors of her bloom
Never wither gray in an antiseptic room

 

[PandoraGlitters]

Congratulations, if this poem is autobiographical.

 

[Palba_Noruda]

Did you want some feedback, commentary? Just putting it out there?

Let us know.

 

[butters]

thankyou for sharing this. antiseptic bite worked particularly well for me.

 

[greenmountaineer]

This is beautiful. The first lines ending in "....nine" made the poem for me. Although there were vivid images following that I enjoyed, I still would have forgiven almost anything because of the power of those first few lines.

April is not the cruelest month, no matter who says so otherwise.