My Poetry. To Die, and Live again.


Delicate flowers
swaying freely
amid a windy backdrop
Slight protection. 
Behind a broken wall
being saved by stone
sunshine opening buds
swollen by the heat
desperate to bloom
petals still strong
Newly formed.
Morning dew evident
now splattered on the wall
flowers now grouped
feeling stronger in numbers
wind dying down
aroma in the air
flowers now still
content, happy
closing for the night
ready to face
Another day.
Birds pecking at petals
bees buzzing around pollen
flowers dying down
turning brown
determined to grow again
seeds carried for miles
by hungry birds
or blown by the wind
landing in another place
sheltered, protected
Spring comes again
flowers now in growth
spreading more joy
cascading colours
beauty beyond scope
in an empty space
now filled with brightness
Admired by passers-by.
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