A Master Florist Seeks Out A Perfect Bloom Poem by Terence George Craddock

if I were a master florist seeking out a perfect bloom
flowers with flawed bent heads would not get a peep
into dustbin discarded go not one customer to weep
not a single soul to shed a tear for flowers sent to early tomb

but unless your a florist a flower with a bend
stem that hangs its head which still glance looks
startling beautiful smells like sweet perfume is
still a precious rare joy to behold in settings wild


Copyright © Terence George Craddock