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How beautiful you look,
in your gown of red.
A dewdrop sparkles
like a diamond on your
green sleeve, the sunshine,
glances off it, to form a rainbow.
You know not your beauty,
vanity is an unknown to you.
I sit here each morning,
I have done so for decades
captured by your presence,
enchanted by that great beauty.
I watch you as you entice,
the kiss from a butterfly.
I wonder if you ever think of me,
and what would it be
that you thought of me.
A clumsy old man
pottering around his garden.
I think of times to come.
You will still be here,
as fragrant and as beautiful.
But what of me, I wonder.
Hopefully I'll be beneath,
the earth, you claim your own.
You know I'll be happy with that.
Having you there above me.
It feels the way it should be.
Best be getting on now,
I haven't spoken to the Jasmine yet.
Tagged in Poetry