A bouquet of roses Found among the debris They look fresh and fine I took it home with me In a vase near a dining table The roses made me smile But that night I had a bad dream A girl in white wanting the bouquet returned It gave me cold sweats, I shivered down my spine Morning, I read in the news She died in a car accident On the day she turned sixteen... Put the bouquet back on her grave... Praying she is resting safe...
We were putting on our Tap shoes, When our teacher gave A call, We'd been asked to give A dance display, At the old Squire Hall.
She asked me to do a Solo, A song-and-dance Routine, I chose a Deanna Durbin song, Of her I used to dream.
I so often went to see Her films, And copied how she Dressed, Waltzing in The Clouds, Was the song I liked The best.
My grandma bought Some satin, As pink as any rose, She made the dress, Slit to the waist, Quite daring, I Suppose.
It really did look Something, She had made it Very well, Some of my young Dancing friends, Were jealous, I Could tell.
The big day finally Arrived, The display was a Success. My beloved grandma Said, She liked my turn The best.
Before the final Curtain, The 'stars' were Given flowers, It was so exciting, I could have stood For hours.
A bouquet was Handed to me - Yellow tulips, big And bright, I hardly could Believe my eyes, And held them Very tight.
'From an admirer' Read the card, My heart began To pound, But the sender of The tulips, I never, ever Found!
We travelled home By local bus, I walked up to the Top, And sat on the very Front seat, Holding my flowers Aloft.
I certainly felt like The queen, Yes, really rather Grand, I saw the public Passing by, And gracefully Waved my hand.
When I now see Yellow tulips I think of that Great day, When I stood Upon the stage So proud, And held my First bouquet.
BY DARRYL ASHTON
bouquet.
Author: Darryl Ashton
0
Date: 17/02/2020
¹ 1146813
The Last Bouquet
I woke up extra early To pick wildflowers from the meadow I gathered goldenrods and roses And picked some baby's breath I watched the dewdrops scattered Across the blades of grass I watched the colors of gold And lavender infuse the morning sky I took a piece of baby blue ribbon And tied it around my flowers To hold your special bouquet in place For this is your last bouquet here And this is your special day
**~Marian ~
bouquet.
Author: Marian
0
Date: 09/02/2020
¹ 1144178
Bouquet
I picked a dozen roses And sent them all to you... Some are different colors... With a symbolic point of view... 2 red roses for your smile... That drives me insane... 2 pink roses for your kisses That leave a lipstick stain... 2 blue roses for your eyes Pools of natures perfection 2 yellow roses for your beauty My only selection 2 purple roses for your body Of which I can't ignore... 2 black roses for leaving me... Dying on the floor Please accept these flowers And know I love you so... Each one a fragment of myself... And all that you let go.
bouquet.
Author: Christopher Black
0
Date: 07/02/2020
¹ 1114034
Bouquet of the Week
The walls are closing in and i hear my demons knocking at the door. The screeching of the shadows and the sirens are much louder than before. I sworn myself to secrecy but the secrets are not mine to keep, And my mouth will keep on running until i run out of gasoline. My body is a temple but i let the princess down when i lent the key to her palace out to the public.
If i were to be honest, I'm scared of who i have become. And if i weren't on this damn medication, It'll seem i could finally find somebody who would love me for just me, And not some drugged up version of a chemical imbalance. I thought i was perfect before.
I guess not. Nothing ever happens like I planned, And that's the way life planned it. And if i think right, He will leave me once again, And that's what he intended.
But if he comes back to me, What was will never be and what will be Will never be what it was once before.
If i were to be honest, I'm not sure if i could handle the disappointment i set myself up for Months before our reunion. Tell me how it feels to kill me once again with your words. Smother me slowly, and cover me completely with the flowers that you picked on our first date. Those of which have never died Just like my love for you.
But your feelings have wilted with the seasons. You come and go as you please, And i am just the fool who believed them, The lies you sold to me in the Bouquet of the week.
