The Waiting Rose Wilted
The wings of hued lattice fluttered in ecstasy
in the silken stream of the mesmeric morning air,
sprinkling the spectrum of chromatic shower
from the overturned pallet of the colorful sky.
From the yonder milieu of blooming yellow wetland,
a butterfly flew in with the patina of golden fervor,
through the melting archway of the rainbow dreams
to my enchanted garden of blossoming yearning.
It landed on the petals of rose morphing into my lips,
I whispered the song of spring on its dancing wings,
hoping it’ll carry the song on the cadence of its colors
to you, and fly back in twilight tinge with your melody.
The rose in me waited, and wilted in the dismal night,
the butterfly didn’t return with your cherubic charm.
July 8, 2020
For Brian Strand's No. 1175 Contest
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