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Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash. Leonard Cohen

Friday, June 5, 2015

Forget Me Not

Wild Violets for Mother's Day
painting by artist Paul Wolber
Pink carnations at the prom
White lilies for the wedding
Roses on the five tier cake
The petals on their bedding

Honeysuckle in the yard
A garland on her head
Daisies in the garden with
the tulips bright and red

Perfume scented lavender
with just a touch of clove
Tucked within her diary
Saved mementos of her love

Violets pressed between the pages
from another life
Faded into memories
when she became a wife.

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Bits of Inspiration, Floral Explosion

10 comments:

Susie Clevenger said...

I used to have so many flower pressed memories. Thank you for reminding me and thank you for taking part inn the challenge!

brudberg said...

What a wonderful image, and also a little sad that all those flowers faded into marriage.

Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...

Ah, the sweet dreams of young girls!

kaykuala said...

Young love brings lots of sweet memories. Pity marriage comes to intrude.

Hank

Sanaa Rizvi said...

Perfume scented lavender
with just a touch of clove
Tucked within her diary
Saved mementos of her love

Such heart-warming sentiments :D
Loved this exquisite piece :D

Kerry O'Connor said...

This has a lovely lilting rhythm. I so enjoyed your array of flowers connected to the phases of life.

hedgewitch said...

I think the fragrance of pressed memories is often stronger than the ones we find fresh in the garden--as you show us here, LM. Great cadence to this, along with the images that lead smoothly one to the next.

grapeling said...

so does, as a wife, she no longer treasure flowers? ~

Gillena Cox said...

I kind of liked the pressed flower mementos after the fresh flower presentations. You know that lingering in a pleasant sort of way

Much love...

Buddah Moskowitz said...

Beautiful - Love, Mosk