The Blossom From the Bud
Her eyes sparkle blue
bright and full and stormy
they makes me think of hydrangeas covered in dew
Her mouth is a plush pink
similar to that of lush rose petals
nestled together speaking of beauty
masking the thorns skillfully
Her hair is a silky pale yellow
flowing down her back
Shiny vines of honeysuckle
full of bees that whisper hurt into her ears
her hands are soft and smooth
almost too pale like the white of the Lilies by the river’s edge
She grows in the flower bed
tended to by the ones who perfected her
But they never checked the stability of the bud
before demanding the beauty of the blossom.