BLOSSOMS

She has wanted flowers in her hair

Since she was small

Though boys didn’t care.

The only men in her life

When she was small

And life was bright

Was her daddy who held her

Soft and warm

And God above who kept her strong.



And all through the years

She wore flowers in her hair

From boys she met

From places far and near

And pressed them in a book

Kept them close to her heart

So that when they died

They never fell apart.



She was a flower girl in a wedding once

And went to senior prom

Where she danced and danced

And her daddy bought her flowers

The day she made the team

And she picked the perfect ones

For her bouquet in the spring

She pressed each one

From when her son was born

Even kept the ones from friends

When she broke her arm.



The day came when the flowers

In her hair

Fell onto her father in a grave so bare.

Save one for her book, pressed so neat

To keep close to her heart not under her feet.



But her favorite blooms, even now,

Come from God too.

They aren’t picked or wrapped

But are always new…

Occasionally she’ll press them for memories sake

But wears one in her hair

Each day.

--Diva
as published in "A Diva's Child" Lulu Publishing