The Exit of the Flowers

We begin with Winter.

Bitter, dolor plentiful.

He knows no color,

A perfidious soul.

 

Spring, hidden, reveals herself.

Builds a house, wooden walls, plush floor.

She waits.

Each day passing slowly,

Her patience is rewarded at last.

 

Her friends bloom one by one, greeting her.

They flood the land with color, where it once did not exist.

Coronate their beauty, for Athena herself dare not compete.

Flaxen, azure, and scarlet, all form an unimaginable rainbow.

 

Sat in a mead house, built apace.

Ether applauds their swift dances.

Pale blue crowns gifted by Gaia sit upon their heads with grace.

Strong as Hercules, they stay with spring.

Stuck like glue, they shall not budge.

 

Alas, even those with the strength of Hercules must leave some day.

They bid adieu, sorrow in their hearts.

Bluebonnets, followed by buttercups, followed by daisies, walk out the door one by one,

As they are no longer welcome.

 

Though color once existed where it does not anymore,

Wait, one day at a time for its next arrival.

 

We end with Summer.

Fulgent, joy plentiful.

She knows little color,

Yet a courteous soul.

 

Photo by Joel Holland on Unsplash