Tuesday, May 24, 2011

His Peony


Long past the prime of blossoming spring rose.
Past, more, the sweet, fine scent its wilting bloom;
Tight clench of bud in spheres, in May still closed
June! Peonies display celestial plume.

The life span of the floral bed of spring
Lasts mere a breath then droops; petals a-ground.
Late blooming spheres just woke—fresh, light, smelling
Fragrant;  beauty all summer-long abound.

I was once hermitted within my heart
Fearful, tearful, timid, wounded, forlorn
I gave one my love, my first—Now apart
Would I have more within? Was my soul shorn?

“My Peony, you’ve not used all your best;
Once opened up your art spills forth endless.”

-- JTG

1 comment:

Jenn said...

Juliet- I love it. We have shared endless phone calls, letters, and emails over the years... and despite the loss of your very dear friend... I am seeing a beautiful, deep side to you that isn't afraid to be raw and vulnerable--- love has left it's mark on you.