Valerie Staton Poet Rhyme

Grown To Die

Grown to Die
By Valerie D. Staton


Beautiful and fragrant is how we’re described
Yet they cut us, as soon, as we arrive
Crammed into vessels with limited space,
To put a smile on another one's face
They place us on tables, watch us decay
Then quickly toss, our fragments away
We sprout, then blossom, within days, we die
That is a cut flower’s cycle of life.

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Gershon Wolf January 9, 2019 at 7:40 PM Love the poem, and love Janice's comment too (drop down)… An idea: There's a four-line poem by Samuel Hoffenstein, which I first read in a small anthology (1st line is -- You buy some flowers for your table), that is remarkably similar to your poem here. It shows that you've got 'it,' Valerie! :) gw Valerie Staton January 9, 2019 at 8:25 PM Thank you for your kind words. Your feedback is appreciated.

Caren Krutsinger January 7, 2019 at 8:53 PM Valerie, your poem shares my feelings exactly about cut flowers. I tell my husband "only plants, I will accept no cut flowers," for I do not want to be their death-meister. I like this one a bunch, Valerie. I would have labelled it personification for sure! Valerie Staton January 9, 2019 at 8:28 PM Thanks for reading. Your feedback is important.

Michael Wise January 7, 2019 at 6:22 PM Sad, and sweet, and true. I think we tend to forget that they are living beings too. :) Valerie Staton January 9, 2019 at 8:26 PM Thanks for reading my work. I appreciate your point of view.

Janice Canerdy January 7, 2019 at 12:50 PM This is a beautiful piece, Valerie. If flowers could talk . . . ! Janice