I am the pressed flower
you find on filigree paper
between the pages of a book
My fragrance still lingers
like a gurgling brook
I am the flower of the lily
Soft and delicate,
nostalgic between the pages
as I experience each
of life’s precious stages
My leaves are no longer
the vibrant green of yesterday
and my petals have slowly faded;
no longer a fresh bouquet
Be careful when you lift me
for my layers may crumble apart
But I am still a delicate flower
with many a journey left to embark
There is still so much of me to breath in
so breath me in delicately
Soft like a baby’s breath,
I am the flower of the lily

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Copyright © Priya Patel

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Disclaimer: The image used herein is taken from the Internet. Due appreciation and credit is acknowledged


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