Flower Language

December 24, 2017
By Student#0 BRONZE, Palo Alto, California
Student#0 BRONZE, Palo Alto, California
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

I woke in early morning, and pulled my jacket on,
I wandered out the door, toward newly rising dawn
And drifted to the fields, where light from golden branches hung
And named the plants my friends, in the days when I was young.

They welcomed me with kindness, and bid me stay with them
They taught me all their tales, of curling leaf and tallest stem
I ran and laughed with Lupin, conversed with Bittersweet,
I wreathed myself in Aster, then closed my eyes to sleep.

Clovers sung their quiet songs, I knew the words by heart,
I hummed along with melodies, in rounds I sang my part.
The flowers spoke and whispered, and wove and wagged in wind,
"Someone's coming...! Someone's coming...!" leaves aflutter, petals bend

I blinked myself awake, and thanked them each by name.
“Farewell, friends! I must go, but I’ll come back again.”

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