My Edward & I

crafts

My teacher welcomed you into the class,

Turns out you had art as well,

I didn't dare look back at you,

Fearful of what my eyes might tell.

We worked with wire that day,

We had to make a sculpture to hold,

I tried to make a flower

But it would always droop and fold. 

I'd glance at you, my Edward,

When I was sure you wouldn't notice.

Your fingers, so nimble and agile.

Your grey eyes so focused.

A bouquet of copper and white, 

Daisies appeared from your hands

Faster than light. 

I envied your natural skills,

And eyed you with muted spite. 

I traded my odd flowers for leaves

That looked like duck bills.

At the end of the block,

I turned in my sculptures,

And returned to my seat,

Sad at my inner defeat.

The bell rang and I grabbed my books,

And noticed in my rush,

That there was something hooked,

Right behind my faded bookmark.

I stopped and opened the cover,

The rest of the class rushing out,

And in the pages lay a flower

A perfect flower with leaves of grey wire. 

The same grey that colored your eye. 

Warmth spread across my cheeks, 

And I looked up to try and see, 

If you were there, with that serious gaze, 

Silently smiling at my surprise, 

I wanted to thank you with my eyes. 

But when I looked up, 

The room was empty. 

There was only me and autumn haze. 

I sighed 

And tucked the flower

Safely behind a notebook page.