Long ago I had the presence of mind
To collect dried seeds from dying flowers
Thinking at the time… what a splendid find
Come spring they'll have resurrecting powers
Sealed in a Ziplock… their potential was stored
Tucked away in drawer called miscellaneous…
Rediscovered in May while assessing my hoard
Planted with skepticism… hoping for radiance
A dozen days vanish... still no sprouting leaves
Expectations are beginning to slowly wither
Anticipation has been stolen by unseen thieves
Only unrefined weeds created hairline fissures
With a ting of sadness, all hopes take a hike
Thoughts of blossoms fade into shades of blue
Wondering what they would've looked like…
A last glance reveals a gathering of green hues
Is it possible… it is like a present with a bow
Many small seedlings are scattered all about
Watered and cared for each day as they grow
Now colorful Zinnias give a Hallelujah shout...
8/2/2012
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Fine Work, Theresa Ann...Mellifluous structural movement...like the rhyme-scheme...Enjoyed this! ~FjR~