Dead Love

Inspired by the picture above taken and titled by a wonderful friend and sister; Woomie, is the poem below. She's a free-lance photographer (for now) and a owns a blog: Woomie, visit and feed your soul with beauty through her lens and let your heart listen to the words they speak...enjoy

It,

smells so beautiful

be careful.

It,

blossomed one spring morning,

falling,

like petals in autumns evening.

My heart,

deeply in mourning.

It,

brightened your smile,

Now it's dull!

like a trees bark

in the empty winter night

boring,

like the lone dogs bark.

It,

still smells so beautiful

the pretty summer odorant

Lingers,

In my stone cold thoughts,

as the memory

of a once beautiful thing,

warmed my soul.

It,

then eludes me,

as I’m reminded

by the sorry wilt it had become.

It,

drank of my tears

nurtured,

by the labour of my hands.

Grew,

before my sight

and with my hands buried it.

It died,

and you killed it,

the very moment

you lied about it.

Yet,

beautiful still,

is the smell of; it

grow

shalll another

the orchid is full with;

it.

Fimisola-Samuel

fragile,