Delicate Flower

Delicate flower stripped of her petals,

Floating with her friend the wind,

Blades of grasses flinging dangerously,

Grasses growing green with envious eyes,

Staring at her drifting carelessly,

Swaying in three-quarters time,

As the sand falls in springs hourglass,

She falls in a rhythm slower and slower,

Her heart in contention clouding her mind,

Her partner the wind keeps her occupied,

Keeps her focused on the swirly colorful spin,

As the colors of spring start to bleed and stream,

Her eyes dutifully capture the sights,

The strength of her petals degrades,

Coz these have been falling away,

Falling from the crown on her head,

Though worried she's not, as she dances,

“The wind is too good a dancer”, she thinks,

While all of his focus is on only her,

On that most delicate flower,

She figured it would soon be time to bow,

To depart and retreat with the sound,

To death, to the wintry frost of the ground,

Where she will wait for the spring to again,

To wake her, and beg her to dance with him.

                               By Pete Soto

                               (writen a long time ago but never shared it)

                                thanks for reading and upvoting hopefully...