Flower love

Our love was flower love
Not root or trunk love;
Like a flower,
It bloomed
With shouting beauty;
Was admired by everyone
Who saw it;
Even the birds and bees
Saw the beauty of it
And not only admired
But hoped from one
Flower to another
To savor it’s nectar;
But flower that it was,
The beauty did not last;
It was but shortlived;
And withered and died;
Is it thus true?
That sweet things
Don’t last for long?
So was our love;
Flower love.
Here now and blooming,
Gone tomorrow, no trace.


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