Monday Poem: Flowers

[Every Monday (until I run out of them), I’m posting a poem of mine that has fallen out from the submission process for some reason. In most cases, it will be one where I’ve received no response to my submission for at well over a year or more. Maybe the magazine I submitted them to has folded, the submission was lost in the post, or whatever. So, these poems can be seen as lost, orphans, of uncertain status, or something like that.]

These poems are also posted to ABCTales.

Flowers

These flowers were forgotten

left in the waterless vase

until they turned brittle brown,

became bare dry sticks;

leaves fallen, petals long lost.

Flowers in memory only.

And you cannot remember

why I bought them for you,

or the single one you picked

to wear in your wet hair,

as you stood, naked and fresh,

soap-perfumed from your bath.

You laughed then, at my smile.

You knew you had the power

and I had this desire

to kneel between your legs

and give my thanks

to you and your nudity.

Your hands on my head,

pulling me even closer still

as you fell backwards

into my favourite armchair.

I remember smiling up at you,

naked and laughing,

as the flower fell

from your wet hair.