Blue Orchid and Red Roses

Carry forth the thorns of memory
For ours have a dearth of joy
How our recollections cut us
They sear the sights we see
Render our views vermillion
Forcing us to yield our wills
Giving them over to words
And the abuse thereof
Yet we are here
Pathetically joyous
Simple bliss
No longer so bereft
Why else would I picture you
That long detour
The dash from the car
Water streaming down your form
The cold causing you to tremble
All this to deliver a gift
Then off within a minute
How else could I ignore my rules
Long stems
A dozen
Delivered whilst you slept
The joy you gave me
The bliss I heard in your voice
Hell
I sit here still gazing
For even in death
This is beautiful
As will be that which you posses
I cannot part with this blue orchid
I love that I gave you red roses
For in these trivial things
Given for no reason
No event
But because
These things
Show our love

© 2005, Mosquitobyte