The flower.

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  • Nature

    The flower.

    so cold, so dark
    all closed up tight
    sleeping peacefully in the starry night.
    as morning comes the petals stretch
    yawning their first breath towards the sun.
    little breezes, rattling gently
    from tips to "toes"
    smiling at the warm, blue sky
    frowning at the gray.
    sprinkles come dusting lightly
    little showers coming and going
    skies have lost their shade
    no more glory, as the sun sets wildly.
    darkness creeps up again.
    more monsters in the night, so as they close up tight
    remembering the days beauty
    they'll go dreaming, thinking again and again/
    until the suns lively show begins
    the next morning.

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    The true philosopher and the true poet are one, and a beauty, which is truth, and a truth, which is beauty, is the aim of both.

    Ralph Waldo Emerson, American Poet (1803-1882)

    tiffanymm’s Poems (4)

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    STOP&REWIND 0
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    ONE LIFE, ONE BODY 0
    The flower. 0