My Seasons
In my youthful springtime
I walked amid the garden.
I gathered many flowers
In varied lovely colors.
I chose the delicate poppy
That was dearest to my heart.
Little did I realize when
I plucked it and confined it
In a vase, that it would so
Quickly fade and wither.
I was determined not to make
That same sad mistake again.
As I began my summer
I fell in love with a crimson rose.
Its stem was strong and sturdy
And when contained with-in a vase
Its petals opened ever slowly, and
It became more beautiful with age.
I know that my sweet rose will be
With me through my autumn.
Then one day in my winter
That precious flower that I treasure
Will lose all its pretty petals.
I will gather them together to
Make a fragrant potpourri.
Note: Now that the 'Metaphorically Speaking' contest by Catie Lindsey
has been announced, I can reveal that I was speaking of my ex-husband
as the poppy flower whom I married in my Springtime. My Crimson Rose
is the man I married in my Summer whom I am still married to after almost
31 years. The other flowers are the men I dated before I was married. If
my husband dies before me, my memories of him will become the potpourri.
Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2012
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment