-- Flowers --

John Herlihy

Please forgive me

I on bended knee

I pine after flowers

Clusters in bowers

Unmanly, you say

Why unmanly, pray

A poem in motion

An elixir’s potion

Its perfume fills

The hearts stills

Its beauty tells

Of magic spells

A single corsage

Our hearts enlarge

Bougainvillea cascade

As though on parade

Crocus herald spring

Its lowly lot doth sing

Those forget me nots

Tie us up into knots

Behold the daffodil

Ink from a poet’s quill

A butterfly with soft lips

Draws nectar in sips

Blue bells their name

Exhibit a lasting fame

Hanging heads in repose

As the morning sun arose

Their little bells never sound

Yet our hearts still pound

Those poppies so sweet

In the meadow at my feet

Their color a blazing red

As if their hearts had bled

Songbirds in bowers

Flitting thru the flowers

The hyacinth dressed in blue

Constant as the wind blew

Moonflower in night gloom

Awakens its exotic perfume

Finally, the crimson rose

Its soft petals as bows

Such flaming beauty born

Splendor guarded by a thorn

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Copyright © John Herlihy

Thursday 18 November 2021