She is my pretty passion flower,
my rare, romantic rose.
I will not pluck her thoughtlessly
from garden where she grows.
Instead, I’ll simply idolise,
appreciate and praise,
sit down by sea to study her
on still September days.
She is my pretty passion flower,
my lotus in the mire.
She will not take offence at me
If sometimes I do tire.
I know that she won’t hold a grudge,
fall out with me or weep.
She’ll go on being beautiful
while I am sound asleep.
And when I wake refreshed again
she’ll still sit there serene.
My mild, majestic passion flower,
my faithful, floral queen!
- Author: Blue-eyed Bolla (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: May 5th, 2021 05:12
- Comment from author about the poem: for Lorraine
- Category: Love
- Views: 48
- Users favorite of this poem: Accidental Poet, L. B. Mek
Comments5
She obviously meant the world to you Kevin. I know this kind of love myself. Your wife will always be with you. ; ) AP.
thank you AP
Good write Kevin.
thank you O
That passion will always be there Kevin.
Andy
thanks Andy
beautiful lines... straight from the heart...
thank you
'She’ll go on being beautiful
while I am sound asleep.
And when I wake refreshed again
she’ll still sit there serene.'
simply brilliant, dear poet
(fun fact or maybe not? lol)
the latin translation 'passiflora'
I also used to title
a mother's day poem dedication
Thanks LB. Yeah, passiflora is a lovely title.
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