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Presence
12-13-2003, 09:02 AM
Sonnet of Flowers

Flowers on our grave, they no longer smell
The smell is bitter, the taste is not sweet
The sweet hours that passed, we argued in heat.
Our burning flame has died, can you not tell?
I cried in despair, my heart torn in two
Two heads spinning, two hearts soaking in pain.
You left me soaking, screaming in the rain.
And to think, no one could do this, but you.
Breath on a painting, lilies by Monet
In such as instance, I breathe in to see
View of a mirror, reflection of me.
How sad, no ashes from the burnt bouquet.
And so, here in the rain I stand alone
And watch our love wash over our headstone.

Dandylion
12-13-2003, 09:50 PM
beautifully sad...I loved this poem and the last line...excellent:)~Dandy