Conversations With a Flower

It's not wrong to talk to a flower ... From violent hues to dainty colours, Of betraying blues & minty flavours, Odd reasons for th Sun, This is th season of want. Come away, Into golden fields of dandelions, Hear them say, Th voices of my petal'd mountains. Wait! Listen! It's not often th flower talks back... I'm being pretty to show heav'n & earth, How much wit' this life I've fallen in love, But this is all that I can do, Be in full bloom & my most beautiful. In th amber'd silence my colours loudest, In warm winds my perfume most pleasant, Alas! In th darkness I can say no more, In th still night my travels frozen. But from th ground it gently blossom'd, Th pinnacle of our expressions, A flower whom dances & sings, Our gratitude for th gift of spring. Death is life, yet death hath become fear, Darling do tell, what ever's your heart's desire? We're all just flowers; we die th most beautiful death, Why want what you cannot have.