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.