A flower sprung up through the ground, and bloomed a blossom fair, It grew quite well, all by itself, it need not any care, Except for that which Nature gives, and that alone it needs, Leave it alone, and it will live, to spread of all its seeds, That which is well enough alone, should not be touched by man, It is not ours, but Nature's own, and dies by touch of hand.
Reason for writing:
Once the beauty of the flower is captured by hand, the stem
cut, the beauty withers... beauty is intrinsic, and once we
attempt to garnish it for our own robes, it abandons us.
Though, I have said of Jean, True beauty is in the heart,
superficial beauty is just a part, but there is nothing
superficial in you, for you are beautiful through and through.
Birth sign: Not entered
You need to log in to edit this poem if it is yours.
View more poems by Lawrence J. Henriques, the Snowman.