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Forget Me Not

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I had a passion for vibrant flowers, and I was often found in the garden, As one gains the haunting night bird songs, in burgundy skies darkening. My garden had many varieties of flowers, in countless appealing colors, Like a rainbow comprising so many shades, it does not need any others. People ofttimes complimented my flowers, saying I had a green thumb, Like a dawn beginning in rose rapture, not knowing where it came from! I also had a lucrative business, supplying flowers for special occasions, As when even the remotest locations, are overtaken by floral invasions. But my favorite flower of all, was the sweet diminutive forget me nots, For they look as enchanting in bouquets, as they do in red flower pots. I enjoyed many dear friendships, and I sometimes went out on dates, Like the delight of desert blooms, which upon sparse, cool rain awaits. My life was filled with sunshine, and red robin visited with ivory roses, As magenta butterflies visit the places, where sweet fragrance reposes. I was walking to work one jadeite day, in the gold sunbeams of summer, And I was smiling secretly to myself, like when she knows you love her! But suddenly a lady spoke familiarly to me, whom I'd never met before, Like sunshine familiarity with pearl moon, reflecting upon nightly shores. Perhaps she was was someone I should know, but had simply forgotten, So, I smiled and made small talk, to old love songs of the purple martin. How shocked I was to learn from chatting, that she was my best friend, Like colorful mists of a fragrant morning, that are ending as they begin. And I did not know what to think, when she finally walked away smiling, Leaving me to continue my walk, with such intriguing mystery beguiling! I thought that was the end of the oddness, but it happened many times, Someone even claimed to be my cousin, like echoing, unfamiliar chimes. I just played along, pretended to know them, and no one even suspected, Like the sunshine's warming caress, that leaves no one feeling neglected. Odd encounters also happened at work, but hadn't got me in trouble yet, But I knew one day they might, so I felt seeing a doctor was a good bet. To my utter shock, they found a brain tumor, and then it all made sense, Like the springtime's green emergence, filled with blossoming suspense! Then the secret invader was removed, though complete recovery was slow. My memory was gradual in returning, like memories of roses in the snow. But one by one those dear faces, proceeded to reenter my grateful heart, The parts of me which I'd forgotten, my cherished, misplaced, fresh start! These days I am completely healed, and still reveling in my pretty flowers, And treasuring all of life's rosy moments, which make up the violet hours!

Copyright © | Year Posted 2022




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Date: 4/23/2022 10:07:00 AM
This is a beautiful story Evelyn. One which ends on a bright note. Loved it and as always your description is beautiful. God Bless, JB
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Evelyn Judy Buehler
Date: 4/23/2022 10:12:00 AM
Thank you for your much valued comments and appreciation, Judy. Have a wonderful day, my friend, Evelyn
Date: 4/22/2022 11:09:00 PM
Dear Evelyn, I always await you wonderful Saturday long epic. Even though there was a fright awaiting me but all's well that ends well (fiction, I presume). Your garden is a delight. Oh to go for a walk in that marvellous place. Well done.
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Evelyn Judy Buehler
Date: 4/23/2022 10:02:00 AM
I am always so thrilled and happy to read your positive responses to these tales, my friend. And, of course, they are always fiction. Thank you also for the fine compliment of wanting to take a walk in my garden. :D
Date: 4/22/2022 5:48:00 PM
A beautiful poem Evelyn, how I love forget- me-nots, lovely scented flowers. I’m sorry to read about your brain tumour, but I’m so pleased the invader was removed and you’re healed and have recovered. Keep well, Belle… Sorry Evelyn, I understand now the poem is fictional. Have a wonderful weekend yourself x
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Evelyn Judy Buehler
Date: 4/22/2022 6:02:00 PM
Belle, thank you so very much for your kind words of appreciation. I must tell you however, that this poetic tale is completely fiction. Each week I write one of these fantasy stories, and the story is always narrated in the first person. I hope you have a wonderful weekend, Evelyn

Book: Shattered Sighs