Floral Whispers

He gave me a bouquet of Candytuft,

and Oleander Blooms,

They whisper to me a cold rebuff, 

and the floral words for doom.

He gave me a handful of striped carnations,

and mock orange flowers besides,

they whispered to me dark revelations,

as to to where his heart resides.

Instead of red roses and beautiful Jonquil,

which would shout his love so clear, 

Monkshood adorns my windowsill, 

and mutters hatred for all to hear.

But the whispers of flowers I can easily ignore,

As long as he's smiling when he comes to my door.