Wild Orchids
High on a quaint little hill,
In a quiet, quaint little town.
Wild Orchids, once plentiful,
Were nowhere to be found.
It was a mystery to all there,
So sad, such beauty, now gone.
What once blessed their vision,
Amber sunsets, golden dawns.
A pall fell upon the town,
All their sunsets disappeared.
Such beauty lost, bred sorrow,
As another Winter drew near.
Then tragedy struck the land!
War ravaged their small township.
All young men were called away,
All the women knelt in worship.
Time seemed to wane wearily,
Anxious hearts feared the worst.
Then news came of twelve casualties,
And every heart there would burst.
Twelve, flag-draped coffins, carried,
Every young man, bred and born.
A million tears would rain,
Every broken heart would mourn.
The Winter, bleak and barren,
Each day just like the last...cold!
A lifeless, loveless town died,
Unsure of what would unfold.
When, on a bright and infant morn,
The whole town flocked in waves.
By the light of Spring's first day...
Wild Orchids lined the graves!
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
