The Maturing Orchid

He meandered lonely just a senior citizen trawling the pathways of his computer, when suddenly one day in a flash an enchanting name jumped from the screen into his unadjusted head, whilst still in a daze he had cut copied and pasted, the delete key not an option when sent to his favourites. Then like magic, poetry began to appear every single day a new poem would emerge all written in a familiar dialect, to begin with down to earth raw unadulterated poetry the kind that attaches itself to one’s mind bores in to the head, rattles around then lays awhile then keeps coming on back, over and over again. Poetry that penetrates, like an arrow, pierces the heart, tends to linger deep in one’s consciousness disarming the most vehement of thought, poetry that creates calmness making one at ease, especially one old with age and recipient of an endowment of excruciating pain! Soon the poetry began to blossom as all creations do in the springtime of their lives, the purity of Wild flowers, colours of the rainbow free to sway within the gentle breeze, soon each daily dose of verse begins to transpire into carpets of lavender upon the woodland stage, cascading Bluebells of joy, the epitome of beauty unfolding before one’s very eyes. Again the poetry continues to consolidate, poems of form formularized those conceived of the Peace Lillie so sensuous in shape so assuring in grace, a hard life the Lillie endures yet one, only of positivity etched into each stanza of bold narration for all to peruse! Then a transformation to the Rose, the very sense of beauty, when with words of wrought thy language comforting long into the night to ease each day a journey of plight, yet for you sweet Rose thy poetry, it is not at an end when to the Orchid you graciously ascend! Many are those that come and admire the wonders of your beauty those words on fire, yet some desire more with cunning and subtlety those to manipulate to control for one’s own ends. But the Orchid remains safe suffers no fool, nurtured in extreme climates is strong and worldly wise, the poetry just keeps on coming, flowing like tears of joy, from an eye of one who’s happiness is assured every single day! © Harry J Horsman 2012