I was, of course so very sad,
my flower had been taken.
And thought of what I might have had,
by now was badly shaken.
I left, what would you have me do?
Went home and went to bed.
And, as I drifted off I thought
'You haven't got a clue'.
And water goes once past the weir
it won't return for man.
This justifies my painful fear
that nothing, that you can
do, think or dream
that would undo
the fact that she is gone.
I tell myself 'Chin up, my friend,
your life will just go on.'
The years went by,
I bought a cane
at our local store,
to help me get into the plane.
I had to fly some more.
Up to the ramp I took my stride,
when something tapped my shoulder.
So, down I looked,
my eyes went wide:
I saw a giant boulder.
That in itself was not enough
to get me all excited,
I had been well trained to be tough
my lips now said 'United'.
How strange this world, how sweet indeed
I thought, now see'ng the reason.
My flower peeked at me so sweet,
it was the rainy season.
I dropped into the mud right then
and reached out with both hands.
And touched my sweet thing
kissed her then.
My tears rolled in the sand.
I took her home, she told me that,
(while leaning on my shoulder) ,
they'd sheltered her from cold and wet
behind the giant boulder.
And I had seen the obvious stone,
but not my little flower.
She waited for me all alone.
Her love gave her that power.
She lives with me now in a pot
and I am in there with her.
We talk of all these years a lot
and then...........
I always kiss her.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem