I am righteous screaming beauty, with my wicked scarlet ways. The words that are spoken, you may never hear. They are carried on the wind in a language you may never know. And as my mouth fills with pollen, I choke on its sweetness. Waiting for the toils of time to take their toll, so I may die and come back in the spring, reborn and recharged. Ready to hail the forest floor with my floral call and cloak of carmine charms, once again.

6 Responses

  1. +David Bowden Thanks :) Yeah,summer cold has me a little muted,at least not wanting to do much but hang around gives me an excuse to post my pictures and stuff :) Otherwise I'd probably outside,it's been just beautiful out and I like to enjoy every minute I can of it !

    +Chris Mallory Always so kind,thank you :) You know your stuff too so,I'm glad it spoke to you.I guess it does have a little poetic flare huh ;) That something so personal,my pictures and my words can be appreciated by someone other than myself is pretty awesome stuff ^^

    +James Garner :)

  2. This is some powerful stuff Rach, I think it may easily be one of my favorite poems of yours so far (even though it's written as prose, it's definitely got that poetic flare). An excellent embodiment of the floral spirit. Love it.

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