A Falling Flower

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Atop a light green blade of grass on a lawn,
A shimmering moist dew drop sits in the early dawn.

At the far end of this prairie, stands a small auburn hill,
Filled with the blossoms of the Bougainville. 

From a tall green branch, pinkish red flowers fly,
Into the deep white clouded blue sky. 

Leaving it’s existence behind. 
Enticed and swept away by the wind, hopefully kind.

Farewell to the others, on their branches, that cling,
While little feathered creatures, chirp and sing. 

Taking a leaf or two with it as it moves on,
Crossing the mandarin sun, just waiting to be reborn. 

Gracefully swaying and floating to the ground with care,
Joining the dried out foliage lying crisply on the ground they now share. 

Looking up at the new buds on the tree,
A joyful new life traded in for an old one that is now free. 

Comments

Ogie the ogre said…
Your words and the picture they create are sheer beauty
February 17, 2020 at 9:44 AM
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