The Golden Flower Poem by Theodore Penn

His face was chiseled stone,
hand of thick leather,
his old bear shadow moved across town streets.
There was the great fire hanging from the sky.
A child held to him a simple wildflower.
Whose blossom as pretty as her sunset hue hair.
Having a crooked branch smile
he took the bud in with the greatest care.
"God bless little one,
now run along"
With that, he was gone.
Only country road ahead.
He rolled the object of beauty within his palm,
while the birds sang their quiet songs.
Fields formed into mounts of forest.
The earthen canopy stretched to Heaven,
where the light broke to the dark oak floor.
As the highway whined like a snake,
til break in the wood revealed,
A valley beaming with life!
There before him lay nature's treasure,
a hundred million golden flowers.
Prancing, shining in the sun
Much like the garden he past knew.

Her stem stood tall against the horizon
moving gently through the wind.
Her fragrance of restful ease
drifts above the high maple leaves.
She sits in silent confidence above the grass.
Her vibrant colors to never pass.
A presence that makes the hours still.
The song she sings whispers through the pines
as the branches bow low all around.
She wears her heart on her bright pedals.
He beheld her from the shadows of the trail.
While she danced before him in the light of the valley.
He took her in, then let her go
Satisfied, he kept on the road.
She had gone her way.
He had gone his.
Leaving behind a blooming blossom,
a golden flower,
a passing friend.