Everyone hated them and for good reason,
the last bouquet on sale this season.
They lay there patiently on the stand
waiting to be picked up and smelled.
Innocent goals, only to spread cheer and
sweet scents in the air and possibly
the lungs of someone treasured.
But to everyone else they were not
memories of silly childhood rhymes,
they didn’t taste of happiness sought
by painters of the (g)olden times.
All they seem to do, is leave a bitter
taste in the mouths hoping for
someone’s lips to meet theirs.
But god help me, I love them so
because when you buy them for me,
it’s out of love deeper than any sea.
Sweeter than red, warmer than the stars
that you put up in my skies, they are. So
I will hold this bouquet of yellow flowers
close to my chest, and breathe for now.