The Flowers In My World
Red soft velvet, forever in my mind,
purple and blue, every color of the rainbow.
White to near black emotional displays,
their meanings hidden in the multitude of their colors.
Once I shared my secret with you,
the flowers I see in people important to me,
the beautiful purple of the pea in bloom
and the mixed color of the cotton petals
that were my father, pragmatic, yet complex.
The rose when I was young, strong but gentle,
though watch her thorns, is my mother,
slowly fading to pastel carnation as she ages.
The lilies and violets came early and withered.
The friends of Japanese cherry and wild prim rose
are but fading and melting memories now.
Then there was my orchid so unique and beautiful,
always transforming from passionate red rose
to lovely tibouchina and phalaenopsis then dendrobium,
now dried and hidden away awaiting the breeze
to, ever so slowly, blow those colors from my life.
Such complexity are the associations I see.
Now, there are the flowers of you.
So many there are, the blue pansy in your eyes,
the glossy red anthurium of your lips,
the spider lily of your slim body and creamy skin,
plumeria and plumbago, azalea and moon flower
and the universe of colors and fragrances that are you.
Even when you are angry I see the toxic beauty
in the subtle white glow of your oleander rage.
I see you in every color of every flower,
the petals that fall from the dogwood trees,
the dancing hues of the crepe myrtles
as they playfully twirl on the evening breeze,
the perfume of the orange blossom and magnolia,
but, perhaps, I see most in you the simple elegance,
the bold unfading flower, the amaranth,
undying in its beauty yet humble in its nature,
always bowing its head in deference to others,
yet bold and strong with the everlasting beauty
that will always define you and never be forgotten.
03/05/2018
Copyright © James Inman | Year Posted 2018
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