Flower 1

Desired in the courtyard And required in the graveyard, Planted with a shovel And transplanted with a trowel; Enriching the glamour of lawns And concealing a grave that yawns; A frightening coffin making touchable And unacceptable dead women lovable… A noticeable presence in vaults, Still to be fingered, it’s faults. The proof of a lover’s affection And clue to a suitor’s intention, A boost to the Bride’s courage; The very one she needs during marriage; Truly a woman makes what she is And a man yearn to kiss. Now, frequently enclosed in a letter: An understanding of how this is better; The pleasant heartbeat it drums in the receiver, How it makes the sender, no Deceiver. Flower parades a stubborn variety Worth everybody’s time and sincerity; Often treasured in every color The reason for their unending honor; To burn any flower is cruel, To bring close to it, fuel; Its leaf one could place in a locket, Rose’s I’d stick in my pocket I didn’t see a flower last week and took ill If I don’t this week, Hospital bill!