She is a flower,
I’ve just realised
Though she told me all along
A flower, not a blossom
On the branch of a stable tree
A wild flower growing
Delicate and free
I cannot nest in her
Cannot climb
Cannot shelter from the
Harsh daylight
She is to be admired
Loved tender in bloom
Not claimed or plucked
Perhaps softly fucked
But she’ll soon turn
Towards her journeying sun
Leave you alone
With nothing on.
A flower is a wonderful thing
All beauty and poetry
The colour-splash orgasm
Of nature, soft petals
And scent.
A flower is a wonderful thing
Until you try to make it a tree,
Lament the lack of shade,
The fragile stem,
It’s vaguery.
–
Joe Blogs, March 2023