“The Flower”

“The Flower”
© 2014 by Michael L. Utley

A flower grows in distant land
Whose sweet perfume anoints the soul
Whose silken petals soothe the hand
Of he who seeks to understand
And reaches outward to console

This flower fair whose beauty hides
Such painful mem’ries of the past
Whose leaflets tremble in the tides
Of raindrop tears that course the sides
Of crying blossoms overcast

By fearsome thunderclouds above
And zephyrs cold that beat and rend
All things this flower’s come to love
With nothing but a mourning dove
To lament flower’s bitter end

Yet…

A gentle hand, a warm caress
On melancholy flower’s face
A touch of simple tenderness
By miracle can convalesce
A heavy heart and can replace

A broken soul with life anew
And joy that was there once before
May dapple petals in the dew
Of mornings bright with strength renewed
With blossoms glowing evermore

A flower grows in distant land
Whose sweet perfume anoints the soul
And any rainstorm shall withstand
And live in peace in meadowland
No longer lost; in hope made whole

(for Lizzy)

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