Bluebells Poem by Lauren Kapusta

So a dream came to me late one night,
On swift silent raven's wings.
And it was of you, my bittersweet.
It was the first lovely encounter we had,
Where you bestowed onto me, a gift of,
Beautiful, deep almost aquatic bluebells.

Tiny, quaint, humbling bluebells...
A reminder of shattered hopes and treachery.
Oh, how my heart rises and falls like the tides.
I still remember the mountains you showed me.
Sunshine and green remind me of you.
The scents of wildflowers linger in my nose.

Why not frolic through the valley?
Why not drink from the crisp pure stream?
Why not a kiss under a willow?
Because that's what you are, love.

You sweetly spoke, nearly reaping my soul.
But all that remains are the bluebells.
Butterflies are fleeting and so are your eyes.
Before it escalated, it crashed luckily.
The damage was dealt but not so heavily.
If only your heart was as desirable as your,
Twisted yet brilliant mind.

The bluebells remind me you're a handsome viper.
I've raised the anchor and sailed else where.
Our laughs of joy may resound within,
The mighty snow-capped mountains,
But in the end, to what effect?
Sweet, lovely, helpful, nostalgic bluebells...