Morning Glories

Sun, 09/16/2018 - 06:12 -- mw97925

It rises, slowly,

Without a sound,
Showcasing its beauty,
While no one is around.
To see it dance so sweetely,
To and fro again,
Guided by the gentleness,
Of the calm summer wind.

"Such a pleasant sight,
Your body, the bluest I've ever seen,"
A small voice said from afar,
Innocently running towards it,
Only to strip it from its family.
Tucking it in her small hand,
She runs further into the valley. .

Gasping in silence,
Trying so very hard to breathe,
It starts to crumble,
While she continues running,
And running.
The destination is near,
But a fear struck her head,
"What if it were to be dead...?"

And,
Without a goodbye,
It disappears,
And in her palm remains,
A withered blue spec,
And a snapped brown stem.

"But! No! My friend,
Why do you leave so soon...?"
She whimpers,
as her mom entered the room.
"Sweetie what's the matter?"


Palm wide open,
She wipes her tears,
Whispering softly,
"I wanted to give these to you.."
The mother smiles,
"Don't cry, my dear,
I got you one too."
 

 

This poem is about: 
My family

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