How they cleaned and pampered
Watered and soiled, patted and moulded
To see that it maintained its fresh looks
Lifted its head high and bloomed out with pride
Alas,
Those lovely buds yawned open and out sprouted the loveliest roses imaginable or seen by the naked eye
With perfumed scents that gets one mesmerized
But then in the midst of it all
To the rosebush’s dismay,
Its life saver started to falter and quite rapidly one might say
To the defence of a lovely young daffodil
How she whirled and twirled flirtatiously with the gentle breeze
Her lovely young petals casting shadows of envy among the trees
Those tender loving and caring hands drooled all over her
And was now his world
Nothing else did matter.
How the rosebush tried,
Blooming out even lovelier sweet-smelling roses
But nothing she did stirred an ounce, neither of attention nor a bit of emotion.
Therefore with shame and a broken heart
She hung her head and wilted
Till every petal was blown away and every leaf was shared,
Leaving only the bare and scrawny, prickly stems.
Many tried helping
For lovely she once was,
But without the hands of the caretaker, nothing else mattered;
She lived for him and blossomed for his touch
Breathed his air and was nurtured by his looks.
He was her existence
And without him, she’s rather wilt out and be no more.
Though she knew that the daffodil was fragile and would be blown away by the passing wind
And that she was much stronger and would survive under any circumstance;
She’d rather wilt and go out passively,
For no one but him
Could mend her broken heart.
Without him, life was a blur
For he was the very pigmentation of her
Her very existence!!! By: Renita Bondieumaitre |
