by Egregious

Created on: February 26, 2007   Last Updated: May 14, 2007

The Flower

How I long to smell the flower,
Though I cannot force the bud.
I can only give it sunlight,
Water, soil, and my love.

I can tend it, I can prune it,
I can chase the bugs away;
As to if and when it opens,
No one knows and none can say.

If the bud should fail to blossom,
If it withers, wilts, and dies,
If the winter comes too quickly,
Catching summer by surprise;

I will cherish yet the mem'ry
Of that flower, never seen;
Thriving in my heart forever:
What was not, but could have been,
What could have been.

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