The field was in rows

of ten.
Or maybe dozens
upon dozens.
The flowers danced
in the wind
as they sang away their pain
and played games to the melody.

They reached to the sky,
wishing for flight
as they caught a sight
of a memory.

The birds chirped in the distance
and with the farmer’s persistence,
the flowers learned a lullaby
for the night.

And with smiles on their faces,
they took prideful races
of who would be the first to
Thrive.
They wanted to grow,
to shine like gold.

All summer they lasted,
Played,
And mastered
Games of pirates and dragons
and more.

With water to keep them nourished,
and love to keep them flourished,
they lived a life of no goodbyes.
A life of happiness gazing at the sky.

Yet, envious they were
of those
singing little birds.
Taking to the sky was
their only wish.
Oh, to fly--
Yes! To fly
Away in the sky.

Summer slowly passed,
and the farmer's joys could not last.
Fall came with a chill
and a wind so shrill,
robbing trees of leaves
and crops of life.

And in the final hours,
they fought with all their powers
to get a petal in the sky.
A petal that the wind could carry
to any distance with ease
and they could see the sights of the breeze.
The flowers only had so see the world one time.

And when the wind picked up,
and the golden petal took to the sky,
there was a cheer and a happy cry.
They could travel and see
all the places to be
and all the lovely sights.

And the petal would live on,
long after they were gone.
And it would return another time.
To home on the wind’s chime
when the farmer's teardrops fall,
as he grieves for his lost boys.

Then he shall look up and see--
On the window, what might that be?
Why, none other than a golden petal
from his golden boys he could not settle,
His lovely sunflower boys.