Sunday, August 24, 2014

The Purple Petunia bloom

Its blush is not unseen
Even as it flutters in the wild wind
Those petals that hold on
Fighting the force; the rooting that reminds
Of where it belongs- the earth
Yet nature has its own ways, in no dearth
is love that binds and  that, which sets free
I sought the one with the wind
That would drift me away,
Like those blooms, tearing to the sky;
 The floating fragrance,  enrapturing
 Lasting it may never be,
But the blush of the bloom rubs off on me! 

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