A Tulip Grows Under An Evergreen - Inspired By the Poets At Poetrysoup

A fine Parrot Tulip in vibrant intensities with unique undertones of green acquirable only in a few forests. A ruby red swirls within its petals beckons awareness of those very strokes that live in the lustre of your shapely lips like fantasy realized. Mirthful yellows in all those lacquers barely ever seen as one would scorch their eyes to gaze lastingly directly at the Sun - though I have been fortunate to witness identical iridescence in strands of your hair you unintentionally flip and like dainty fingers wave me on to move closer to your flawless frame - memorized easily. A special fuchsia sparingly paints the flower they say exists only in certain singular gemstones yet l know this tincture for I have seen it in your cheeks when we play and laugh. Oh your laugh how it fills me - replacing noise surfing the waves of sound in the surrounding atmosphere. How enchanting when your laughter there - dwells to tickle molecules invisible to the eyes but felt by the human heart. Parrot tulips with their soft myriad shades become stunning against a deep black backdrop which shimmers bright like your ebony eyes. Sparkle like your smile and I grin happily just thinking of you, just thinking of us. A pearl white that also adorns the flower a special light effect I have found in your complexion - dazzles my mind each and every time I see you. Parrot tulips a miracle of nature, a special breed I admit are as remarkable as any offering that grows in our gardens but rarer still - you the flower I share my life with. No one, no thing, no life compares to you, your approach - for every time I even think of you, the joy it brings completes the meaning of my existence full. If not for you no other delight would have that extra zest I feel from the sharing of your love and light always. A Parrot tulip oh what joy it brings. How the flower draws these words from me. Ironic how true allure felt fills our glass so I thought I'd share with you how it uplifts my days - knowing confident in our love as one - you'd never resent me speaking of an elegance other than yours. So you may know - understand what the fibres of ones constitution compels them to write. Now - about a mystique other than the one you sport with humility. Finally I have written a poem on aesthetics that does not mention you. A closing monologue. Just above and beneath the dirt grows riches unimaginable. Made to be absorbed by senses recognizable only by a few. They are free for the taking. An appreciation, a love of a natural essence. A flower, a person, romance you breathe incomparable to anything real or imagined. It alone are the wings we humans seek...as real and as precious as all else consumable. How lucky I am the magic handed out daily on these pages. The people I could never find anywhere else then here. I am in love with their words in love with them. the re frain is a par r a ot tu lip m hid d a en u j n e d s e t r i c e v e r g r e e n earthearthearthearthearthearthearthearthearthearthearthearthearthearth r r r r o o oo o o o o t tt t s s s s r r r r o o o o o o o o t t t t s s s s April 27 2015 The Gardener