Delicate flowers,

Fragile daisy chains

You pluck the petals of my soul,

Love me, love me not.

 

Give me your latest excuse

I’m cold and I’m listening

Your words are dying embers on this fire

And I’ve been trying to keep warm

This winter has been a long season my dear.

 

Promises and flowers perish

In the cold chambers of you

But flowers have this charming

Way, of sprouting when the

Cold is never ending.

 

I’ll learn to love again,

as sure as flowers

in the springtime.

 

 

K. Thwaites