I Vary (Not)

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O’ crush not these petals of mine, 
nor tether them in polished glass.
Grow weary not of bounteous sun,
though I’d wither (waste) through
seasons crisp —

O’ pluck not these petals of mine,
believe change is but inescapable.
I vary not ‘neath pressure of blue
storm; rather birth heart-song(s)
with each bud and beginning —



Photo credits: Pixabay

Posted on Midweek Motif @ Poets United

Posted on Open Link Night @ dVerse Pub

54 Replies to “I Vary (Not)”

  1. O, yes, cycling with nature, again and again is change that does not vary–but how beautifully you say it! To take steps to preserve would be interfering. Such a truth to contemplate!

  2. I am sure flowers would prefer to wither on the stem than in some alien vase, and continue to enjoy the sun’s rays and ensuring the plant benefits from it. (I am funny that way!) You adeptly dimply that in “birth heart songs with each bud an beginning”.

  3. I love what you did with the title alone. I see an IV that might have air in it, or not. So someone might be about to die. Or if it’s a metaphor, the “air” sent straight into the veins might be saving someone’s life.

    The ending is beautiful. This is my favorite line: “I vary not ‘neath pressure of blue”

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