Life walked by and told to sit
so I could grasp and take a hold,
but then as fingers touched its sleeve,
it turned and ran before I bit.
I dashed and followed, giving chase
in hopes of catching what is mine,
but then as I drew close and near,
life turned and told me “in your face.”
Then I tripped into a shallow well
of self and pity as I had failed,
but then a flower before me grew,
my life was mine, I would prevail.
Tag: flower
Spring Is in the Air
Layers by L. M. Montes
Beauty flowed from inner roots,
conveying sweet smelling fruits
of sunshine, smiles, and words,
you frowned on joy
and plucked what did annoy,
but the beauty cascaded onward
kissing cheeks instead of shrinking
with thoughtless worded thinking.
You cut and chopped,
there’s nothing left,
just ground and soil
where beauty once sat,
but did you get the soul inside
where beauty actually does reside,
the layers you may peel,
but beauty you cannot steal.
Yard Flowers
Nature’s Haiku by L. M. Montes
A lone flower wilts,
Sun shifts beams smiling upon
its petals giving life.
Rain pelts earthly growth,
too much washes life away,
leaves mud it its wake.
Bright skies lift spirits,
breezes sing sweet songs of joy,
now warmth reigns anew.
Woosh of waves soften
sleepy sand as it hastens
building dunes upright.
Dreamy pink hazy
lands of slumber kiss eyelids
closed as night reclines.
A Flower’s Scent by L. M. Montes
As I walked past the garden,
a scent had grown therein,
gliding over plant and earth
and said, “I beg your pardon.”
The sweetest scent so aromatic,
turned my head to see,
the flowers lifting up their heads,
and struck so automatic.
In their garden hidden,
so many different kinds,
whose scents arise to float
on air as they have often ridden.
First Flower of the Year in Our New House
Summer’s Love by L. M. Montes
With lilt a breeze gives me a jilt,
and on my cheek it plants,
scents of lavender caress,
floating aloft a flowerbed.
Love’s Breath
Love is joyful,
Love is pain,
Love, a sweet smelling flower,
Pulls me to its scent,
And kills me with its breath.
Love stabs me with sharp petals,
And lashes, with fiery forest green leaves.
With every torturous gasp I take,
I whither.
Love’s entrancing, enticing entity,
Takes me in,
Holds me,
Stabs me,
Caresses me,
Cuts me.
This seesaw love,
It plagues me,
My head it whirls and twirls about,
Love stalks my smitten soul.
By L. M. Montes
WRITE TIME AND AGAIN 