The lovely daffodils of spring grow up far too early I suppose.
Their beauty shines so brightly in their neat untrammeled rows.
But those flowers first to blossom are those fastest yet to leave.
Their fragile stems succumbing to those greedy, grabbing weeds.
The tulips shoot directly aiming upward toward the sky.
Their beauty’s simply stunning as they capture every eye.
While they glow above the earth and stand so lovely, tall and thin,
April’s rains come pounding down, stripping petals down to skin.
The sunflower casts its shadows long in the August summer sun.
The others fade as they reach and strain in the darkness overcome.
The stalk grows thick and strong above weak and sickly buds,
until the chill of fall’s strong winds leave them rotting in the mud.
The honey suckles grow so supple
sweetly sprouting on the vine.
Their essence simply fragrant,
and their flavor so sublime.
But this temporary jewel hangs so heavy overripe.
Its syrup grows so saccharine, as its blossoms fall to blight.
In time the autumn comes to put an end to the others’ days.
They thrive within their season until their natural beauty fades.
But all in all. beyond the fall, there’s one final season left to tend.
The frosty barren winter and its terrors, she transcends.
The razor thorns of the winter’s rose protect her lovely stem.
It’s meager budding shape looked-over for more-contemporary trends.
Her blossoms went unnoticed by those busy courtesans.
While the others were all blooming,
grooming, and their petals shed,
their patrons had abandoned them,
dried up and left for dead.
Leaving one lonesome shock of color
in that frozen garden glen.
For all of those the winter’s rose outlasts them in the end.
by D. Ryan Lafferty
Literary Crumbs: Poems & Short Stories to Savor by D. Ryan Lafferty 