I was inspired by a bouquet I got for my gf some time ago which just had to be disposed of because most of the flowers were dying. I was amazed at how such a trivial event affected me. I hope you enjoy it, and as with anything I may submit on here, criticism welcome and encouraged. Pastel Fields A thoughtful truth exists out there Quiet, swaying in pastel fields. While most would distant place their care To patient listeners, it yields. The blooms most fresh are those most sought Since rare is decoration prettier than life. For their vibrant, supple swirls they're bought, Lent light by dead and dying upon the knife. Yet age may grow expensive wine, And too it values bright bouquets. The youngest from the sun may shine, But look to those limp, withered strays. The thoughtful truth so overlooked Is that the dying flower smells the sweetest.
That's really beautiful, you have talent! :eusa_clap I particularly like the line "but look to those limp, withered strays".
