|photo by PSC|
Not some horticultured whore, she was
missing the vivid purples, reds and pinks of the
roses and poppies she palled around with;
no bright berries nor succulent seeds,
no showy foliage to lay claim to.
All but invisible among her more colorful chums,
her pale and silver-white self
providing backdrop for bold, bright others.
Not a beauty to be seen with the naked eye,
more an aura of the soul, the spirit, the psyche.
Silent, not showy, in the sunshine, but
gracing the garden in moonlit glow
while others dimmed and faded into darkness.
Planted not by the gardener, nor tended with care, but
strewn by providence, and left to her own devices, she
blew into this garden bed to take root, and bloom.
This is my Day 1 offering for the 5 Days of Poetry Chain.
for inviting me to play along.
If you are interested in joining the chain,
"message me" on fb (Pamela Smyk Cleary) and I'll add you!