poet Aldous Huxley

Aldous Huxley

#259 on top 500 poets

The Flowers

Day after day,
At spring's return,
I watch my flowers, how they burn
Their lives away.

The candle crocus
And daffodil gold
Drink fire of the sunshine-
Quickly cold.

And the proud tulip-
How red he glows!-
Is quenched ere summer
Can kindle the rose.

Purple as the innermost
Core of a sinking flame,
Deep in the leaves the violets smoulder
To the dust whence they came.

Day after day
At spring's return,
I watch my flowers, how they burn
Their lives away,
Day after day ...

Poem Submitted: Monday, March 3, 2014
Poem Edited: Monday, March 3, 2014

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