For Love


I’d always loved flowers.

You helped me

surround myself with them

to bring me joy.

I would like to lie in my garden

in the mist of the soft sweet smelling mist

of them 

for ever.


But everything has it’s time,

its time to live,

and its time to die

and only the flowers 

will bloom eternally

each in its season

for love.


This is my season for living

and it’s now that I need them.

The flowers you carried 

in that season are for me.


Later they should be for you

for all of you that I left behind

and all of you still to come

to life.

Don’t let them die

for love

of me.

Nobody wants dead flowers,

least of all, dead people.



https://www.journalofexpressivewriting.com/post/for-love



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