“Be joyful and exult

As for all things known

That is the most difficult”

W.B.Yeats

 

I’ve worked hard for this flower bud here before me.

Planted the seed,

Nurtured it, edging it to exceed everyone’s expectations of

Me.

 

France’s sunlight led it to bloom.

And soon it will be ready

For me to wear on the lapel of my jacket.

Like a badge of honour.

 

For moments I pondered on its growth,

And how she would feel once she was ready.

My nerves were steady

But I worried; would she want to be displayed

When I pulled her from her bed of comfort?

 

The English rain fell from my eyes that sun less day

When the wind came and swept

Her away. From my grasp.

How did I believe that it could last?

When my foundations are weak

And so I weep at the bloom that I have lost.

 

But.

The sun came.

Caressed my skin with her warmth

And whispered “Get up”.

Life’s abundance of chance and beauty cannot be lost,

Due to one lost bud.

©