A Flower, A Far Poem by Zachariah isaboke

Time was a second less to a flicker,
In a town distant not to the eye,
That I stood to look a far a flower,
As fair not of the land I stand.

It was maiden a bloom, white a color,
Swifter, a wind follower, tender to bend,
And content to welcome a bee a cross,
Yet, not a feet of mine an inch closer.

Scent to the nose and a longing to touch,
But all in vain for I must not cross,
Only to stand and watch fairer a flower blossom,
For I am not a bee to cross the line.

Near to the eye but, far to lay a claim,
I have to stay and ripe nonentity,
Or die smiling to a fair a flower,
On a flowerless land I was born and bred.