Flowers, Flowers Everywhere
An appreciation of the unusual and late blooming flower.
By Sara Devine Published 4 years ago • 1 min read
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Flower love
As her tender leaves
danced in the breeze.
They said,
“Another weed.”
Refusing to rush
She slowly rooted herself,
using their doubts as mulch.
Shocked to behold
what they never imagined;
She was a flower.
They gazed upon
this guest in their garden,
Finally perceiving
What was shrouded
By blindness and hearts hardened.
Every morning she sent a fragrance,
beautiful beyond measure.
But they wouldn’t return her love,
for her color brought them no pleasure.
Still, the skies opened up,
sent rain and shined the sun.
The flower thrived.
For nothing could stop
what she would become.
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