Do not bring your watering can near Daphne,
she is young and not ready to bloom.
Her appetite small,
in the cool of the fall.
Her pretty faces hidden,
beneath thick waxy leaves.
When she wakes, one pure white!
Innocent, angelic and pale.
Then, one face she blushes
all where the white merges Pink-
Purple, Ambitious, Female.
She has alter egos for each of these cultures.
Thinly laced at the tips of their leaves.
Their properites the same,
the slight changing of names-
Slender stalked beauties
dormant and free.
Great imagery, and metaphors. A simple and enjoyable read. Great job
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i like the way u have put your thoughts together in this poem. i really like it. well done