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Flowerets of ice, various in total,
Dances together, joyfully immotile.
Forms a core, fertile and gay,
Fronds of amethyst, brighter than a blue jay.
Always hopeful, never dismays,
Graceful and noble, blooms in May.
The lively cornflower, stands tall without caution,
Like a magic potion, it's a chest full of fortune.
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YOU ARE READING
The Forgotten Language of Flowers
PoetryFlowers are gentle beings. They whisper tales as old as time. But with the passage of father time, the inhabitants of mother earth have forgotten all about their tales. Now, it is but a forgotten language. Let us explore the secrets of the blossoms...
