Gathering Fallen Flowers Poem by Gulliver Gimble

A simple breeze across a long drawn face.
Motionless beauty at such a humble pace.
Caught off guard at a moment’s sweet grace.
Forgotten love with no heart to trace.

Stoop to touch the petals that fall.
Fragile hands from behind brick walls.
Golden yellow aster’s fragrance calls.
Blooming dreams over ten feet tall.

Her sun shines across one dark cloud.
No man to make her feel giant and proud.
All seems lost like music too loud.
Flowers become brittle, emotions riled.

Love is like opiates, worlds of powers.
One single rain dropp in miles of showers.
Another ruined seed in a forest that towers.
She walks away gathering fallen flowers.