Poem: Petal By Petal

This poem is a special piece for me.  I wrote this after walking through a field of wildflowers.  It was sweet.  I’ve always had a special place in my heart for Queen Anne’s Lace.  I think I’ve shared it before, but the myth goes something like this:

Queen Anne was a beautiful young lady and could sew lovely lace.  The fairies loved her because she was gentle to all the creatures of the forest and loved flowers so much.  She was sewing a particularly elaborate piece of lace when she pricked her finger with the needle.  A single drop of blood fell into the center of the lace, ruining it.  The fairies decided to honor her by making a beautiful white flower to grow wild in the forest.  This flower looks like lace on the top and has deep red petals in the center.

I wrote this poem to illustrate my romantic relationships.  It’s based on the childhood game of pulling a petal off and saying, “He loves me, he loves me not.”  The white petals show all the guys that have taken an interest in me or who I have given myheart to for a season.  Finally, the red petals represent the ultimate love for us all, the love of Jesus Christ.  I hope you enjoy the poem!  Thanks!

February 15th, 2006

Like yesterday, the dream goes by
As soft as white dandelion flowers
Filling a green and yellow field.
The haze of late afternoon weighs my eyes
And I’m lost in the million thoughts.

Queen Anne sits on her mighty throne
And I cut it down to my size and
Gaze at each tiny petal, the mini-flowers.

A childhood game comes to mind.
I sit – I rest – with my knees in the air,
Feet firmly planted.
“He loves me. He loves me not.”
Over and over, repeating my plan.
“He loves me. He loves me not.”

Not anyone in mind, but a flutter in my heart.
Each petal drops with his intent.
My mind blurs in the midst of the white
Reminisce of years gone by and
Love at the doorstep.
One drops yes. Another drops no.
How easily they change their mind.
A dainty pile growing below of disenchanted,
Disengaged, disinterested beaus in white tuxedos.

At last two remain.
Yes, and red.
Red to what can it mean?
Only blood so pure in love divine.

Sarah ><>

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s