The Sunshine Quota | Poetry Collaboration

Jasmine and Ward met when true love budded.
True to her name, Jasmine was a gentle vine;
Her heart reaching out to climb new heights.
His affection watered her delicate smiles to bloom.
But Jasmine flowers don’t last forever . .
Eventually you find them scattered in the wind.
Yearning for their Lover’s call –
Lost in the midst of the coldest nights.

And as the petals of eternal love focused their darkening white gaze on the grave of her befallen- a bundle of decayed fluorescence, an unruly comparison to the young brilliance that she knew of, and adored, but alas, it is what once was-
A lonely petunia bloomed to life-or, more specifically, to death-
But alone no longer! A dozen lilies
And a rather envy-worthy field of Aloe
Sprouted to life
Like the chorus
Of a heart-wrenching melancholic symphony
The Jasmine petals slowly fluttered to the ground-a little bit less than six feet under
And the dark crimson roses cried for the loss of joy and normalcy, of pleasant fragrances of romance
Winter spared nobody, it seemed
A season of wither,
A solace for the broken. . .

Great spores proliferated from Striped-Carnation,
Trampled red poppy, dusted and forgotten,
Weaponry and trajectory scattered the lands of meadow,
A perfected landscape for Erica to bloom,
Now engulfed in flames, sheltered with flakes of snow,
The memories of Asphodel painting lands,
So far and so much it left no beams for Jasmine,
‘our petals of eternal love’,
All left was a dull and numbed land,
As proved, many bright paint can only lead to an ugly and dull colour,

But, a land of war cannot stay a land of the withered for long,
As the remains of Cyclamen succumbs to the cold,
What was once tears, became rain for spring,
A sign of Pine Trees,
A reincarnation for Valerian,
A lock re-opened,
And finally, a dozen of Tulips,
Ready to bloom once again,

And as the land takes a steadying breath,
With each inhalation,
And exhalation,
A heartbeat stutters to life
With sprouting petals, ones of wings, of hope
The Jasmine takes flight
Allowing the sing-song of spring to sooth her agonized soul
And for the tendrils of sunlight
To seep into her
Bringing in acceptance
Of a peaceful lingering farewell
And of a new beginning.

This poem was in collaboration with Nour from Leave Behind a Trace and another friend who will just remain a ghost writer, “Tulip.” We hope you notice each flower mentioned in specific and holds a point of symbolism relevant to each part of the poem. Check out my last collaboration, The Taste of Two Lovers. © Leave Behind a Trace & TheFragranceWriter.com, 2020, except where noted otherwise. All rights reserved.

A Lonely Pinwheel | Short Poem No. 124

a lonely pinwheel
Photo by Guillermo Ferla on Unsplash

A Lonely Pinwheel
Spins in the Wind at a Grave:
Someone Remembers.

By that Graves, He Walks.
He’ll Never Have a Pinwheel. . .
Already Alone.

While His Cheeks are Dry.
A Thousand Tears Flood his Soul
Distant, Lonely Stars.

Pain in the Flower.

Chapter 2020. Honestly Self-Aware.

© TheFragranceWriter.com, 2020, except where noted otherwise. All rights reserved.