A picked flower…
A picked flower is dying,
no matter how pretty the vase.
No matter how well arranged.
Some buds continue to open,
to unfurl and bloom,
but their clock is ticking.
A rare few grow new roots
if replanted in fresh soil.
But the odds aren’t good.
Flowers, trees, relationships.
All of them need growth,
not a sharp cut,
at some seemingly perfect moment.
Gyppo
Nice poem, Gyppo.
My wife adores flowers, and spends some time arranging them. Even though I always give the same answer, she’ll still ask, ‘Aren’t they beautiful?’ My reply, ‘Yes, they were… before you murdered them!’
Very good Gyppo and definitely poetry in its compact and impactful resonance (though I would cut the final stanza summary and not narrow the reading, but that is me).
Phil
Like the message! Well done
Many thanks, Gents.
I love that opening line, and the whole first stanza. The poem is compact and engaging, and that unexpected ‘relationships’ adds the all important human touch. I really enjoyed it!
This is a well constructed poem interestingly detached in tone but powerful. If this were mine. Maybe you dont need “seemingly” in the last line, but I can see why you put that there.
Excellent sentiments very well expressed Gyppo