Dahlia
She was covertly atypical,
Coated in quirks,
But she wore them so beautifully
That there was no need
To complain.
Besides, she wouldn't have cared-
At least, not on the surface,
Though her core was delicate,
And words could not
Mend the rift that they'd made.
A bouquet of dahlias:
I'd bring them to her door,
Just to see her smile.
The pinkish hues of those petals
Would be mirrored on her cheeks...
I have never been more in love
Than I was with her.
She was my dahlia;
Blushing and beautiful, gracefully
Blossoming beneath my gaze.
So gorgeous, so poised,
Until the Winter finally came,
And the flowers fell away.
I don't know where she ended up,
Whether or not
She put down new roots,
Or spread her seedlings someplace else.
Wherever she went,
It must be such a beautiful place
Now that she's there.
I hope that she continues to flower
Just as she did last Summer-
Thus is the nature of true love.
I couldn't really have loved her
If I didn't want her to have the best.
YOU ARE READING
Valentine's Day Collection [Closed]
PoetryWith Valentine's Day right around the corner, we are asking all of you to send in love related poems. There are no restrictions for this contest. Good luck to everyone!