Wildflower in the Rain

Perhaps the most beautiful words are those
which remain suspended in mid-air,
here,
over heathland pathways— I want you beside me;
listening intently,
in a world where honesty is considered imprudence
and shades of mauve are misinterpreted.
An inundation of sorts;
half sip of rhapsody, half of ache,
love is a portion of an epic poem adapted for recitation—
and I wonder
if poetry would suffice?

If anyone observes in me a slight hint of obstinacy?
Forgive me,
for I seem to have lost my breath,
your warm touch and nearness have my blood stirring—
like a wildflower in the rain,
I am beginning to comprehend what it’s like to yield.

 

 

Photo credits: Pinterest

Posted for Writers’ Pantry @ Poets and Storytellers United