How poetic can you be? Write a short poem about what you see

You give me flowers to ease your guilt,

To try and repair the relationship we built.

You thought I did not know, that I was unaware,

You give me flowers, but I no longer care.

© Cynthia Clark

Pink heads swaying tight together

Seeking warmth and seeking shelter

Holding on to shared pure beauty

To the end denying the inevitable

Each leave will one after one

Loose it’s grip, fall down turn brown

When all are lost and all are gone

Their beauty will be a memory alone

Last Rose of Summer

Falling leaves for winter sleep

Autumn harvest ours to reap

Seedheads offer to the breeze

Next year's promise hers to seize

Demeter's deathly grip does wring

Life from crops til return of Spring

Persephone's abduction from her mother

Mourned, reflected in the last rose of summer

The Rose

In the morn dew on the misty hill

The rose bush grows, in the field among the wildflowers.

Her pink flowers grace the landscape with such beauty.

The gentle sweet fragrance of each rosebud fills the air as they bloom

The sun rays breakthrough the morning gloom, a new day looms ahead!

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Curled velvet wrapped inside more velvet

Like an angelic alien spiderkeeping lookout from all sides

Breathing air sucking up life to take on reality