Poetry
Pressing Flowers
Are you gathering friends like flowers
Pressed into a storybook?
Can you tell me if my rose is still there?
Please could you take a look?
I wouldn't want it fading
To a forgotten frail sliver -
So please open those pages
And give it a little quiver.
The perfume from its petals
Should help you find its frame
So hope it isn't buried,
Crushed, without a name.
Oh joy! that flower is fresh still
As the day that it was gifted
So pink and green and sprightly
To guarantee hearts lifted.
© Sophie Brown August 2012
(Lines spontaneously composed for Lama Jampa Thaye)