Flower by Trish Ankrom

Ceri Shaw
02/17/19 01:54:12AM
568 posts

The bloom had arrived,

and it was lovely at last –

vibrant, eye-catching,


glittering with dew,

glowing in the morning sun,

velvety, youthful,


supple to the touch,

emitting a seductive scent,

waiting to be plucked.


But spring was too brief,

and a summer storm had come.

The wind bent the stem.


The rain buffeted.

It left the petals mangled.

Then the sun came out.


Its sweltering heat

aged and withered that flower.

The bloom passed too soon.


What good is it now?

Does it have any use left?

Will it decay – die –


in a dusty vase?

Will it be left between the

pages of a book


and then forgotten?

No. Crush it. Extract its oil –

an anointing oil


placed upon the brow,

poured at the feet of the King,

stored for such a time


when lovers wed…when

we rise from the dead – part of

something eternal.

updated by @ceri-shaw: 11/24/19 06:16:51PM