So softly sits she on the garden wall, A flower among flowers; delicate White blossom hiding from her rainy fate; With countenance's pedals closed in small. A woman's scent is snuffed in arrogance, Encaged by flowery thoughts, thwarts buzzing swarms. A woman's color fades in distant charms As closed buds, pestered by the wind, won't dance. But spring comes strong as rains grow long, and hard, And so, she's importuned: A single drop Of love that's spiked with gloom. A painful stain Upon the heart, she longs to taste the shard Of love again. And now, in bloom she'd stop Your heart to sigh, and thank the Lord for rain.
Reason for writing:
A lot of things inspired this poem, but I think that at
the time I wrote it I was in a particularly boring math class
reflecting on a certain song that was on my mind.
Birth sign: Not entered
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View more poems by Luke Conlin (I am a Feces).