WILDFLOWER

Not the queenly rose that rules a garden
not the pristine lily that adorns saintly hands
not the cheerful sunflower, nor fragrant jasmine
but a wildflower, unheralded, unseen, I am.

Obscurity is the meadow where I grow
The wealth of the earth is my bed
I dream beneath the stars’ watchful glow
and wake to the birds’ serenade.

He who planted me crowns me with dew
and sends butterflies to kiss my cheeks.
What more could a flower ask?
Serenity is my lot. I have more than enough.

~~~~~~

I am trying to overcome a blogging/writing block.  Hopefully, I can be more active with blogging during the summer when school is out.

For DVERSE’s Meeting the Bar – I am, The First Person Narrative prompt.

 

39 thoughts on “WILDFLOWER

  1. Beautiful poem, Imelda.
    I do however love meadows and the “ Prästkrage” in your picture even has its own song in the
    land I come from.

    Your last stanza is wonderful.

    Miriam

    1. Hey there. I think I would rather be a wildflower personally. Smiles. I like the humility in acknowledging that all we hv comes from the one that planted us. That stanza of the dew and the butterflies is def my favorite.

  2. Such a gorgeous wildflower. I specially love this part:

    The wealth of the earth is my bed
    I dream beneath the stars’ watchful glow
    and wake to the birds’ serenade.

    Good to read you again Imelda. Take care.

    1. Hi, Diane. Nice to see you again in WP.

      I’ve been on and off blogging, too. There are just too many chores and too many other things to do outside of blogging. But it is summer now, so I have a little more time to spare with my little writing hobby.

      I hope you check in every now and then, catch up with old bloggy friends. And I hope you are all well and good.

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