Sonnet: The Flower’s No More

A flower rare grew ’midst the wild flowers,
And had such beauty, words can never tell!
Last year, ’twas born in July-end showers;
This July rain became its fast death knell.

The flower will not grow here-aft again!
No more its sweet perfume shall emanate;
And while alive, this land always did gain;
Some persons didn’t allow it pollinate.

The flower’s dead and none can resurrect!
The time was short for seeds to generate;
But all the time, it stood with grace- Erect!
And gained a place in hearts that venerate.

The flower will not bloom herein again!
Ill-luck had smiled, denying all, its reign.



7-2O-2003 by Dr John Celes
Dedicated to www.PoemHunter.com
(my 888th poem submitted here)

by Dr. A.Celestine Raj Manohar M.D.,

Comments (0)

There is no comment submitted by members.