A Bell For My Flowers
A BELL FOR MY FLOWERS
My FLOWERS are keen
And watch what I do
My FLOWERS count time
And lies when they’re true
My FLOWERS fill a bowl
At the edge of my mind
There in the moonlight
My FLOWERS are enshrined
Fresh then are my FLOWERS fine
Love of floral, love of mine
Left alone, left to shine
All that’s bright and twice divine
My FLOWERS need a bell
That rings on Sunday morn
A bell of splendid color
For FLOWERS when they’re born
My FLOWERS lean north
To drink from porcelain dish
My FLOWERS lean south
As willpower turns to wish
Fresh then are my FLOWERS fine
Love of floral, love of mine
Left alone, left to shine
All that’s bright and twice divine
My FLOWERS follow kings
With gemstone and stained glass
My FLOWERS stand at guard
No ancient age shall pass
My FLOWERS catch rainbows
And blue peas in a spoon
My FLOWERS press aloft
Under starry winter moon
Fresh then are my FLOWERS fine
Love of floral, love of mine
Left alone, left to shine
All that’s bright and twice divine
RAMA INK.
2010
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