Just weeds grew there now.
He wandered over to the side of the
yard where wildflowers used to grow. But, no flowers were growing this year.
She was gone. So, he had lost all interest in his flower garden. A stray daisy or two tried to sprout, but since he did not water the patch or fertilize it, the ground
had become hard and crusty, in the heat of the early summer sun.
He had planted it for her.
She loved wildflowers. That fall she mentioned, in passing,
that she loved them. So, early next Spring, at the end of March, he dug, de-stoned,
sifted, fertilized and planted. In a four foot by six foot patch, he planted
almost two dozen packets of wildflower seeds. Planted would be a stretch. He
sprinkled the seeds with love, with wishes, with hope. He carefully sprinkled a
layer of topsoil over the seeds. He watered them with love, as needed. He
watched the flowers blossom from his kitchen window. When she came over, they
sat at the window and would watch their progress. And their love blossomed,
too.
As Summer arrived and the wildflowers radiated glorious
colors and scents, so did their love. Their love grew, and they grew together and
intertwined like the wildflowers, touching, embracing. The brilliant display of
color mirrored the glory of their love. They had exploded in a rainbow of color,
as the summer wore on: rich reds, oranges, and yellows of Poppies, Indian
Blanket, Red Flax and others, to the bright blues and soft lavenders of
Bachelor Buttons, Blue Flax, Lupine, and Chinese Houses. He tended the
wildflower patch, just as he tended to the garden of their love.
But late in the Summer, at the beginning of Autumn, she went
to visit her family and something happened. She never returned. He had never
found out exactly where she lived and did not have her family’s address or phone
number. Her phone number was disconnected. He searched for her, but he never
found her; she was gone.
So this Spring, the patch was untended, un-watered,
unfertilized, and unloved. He wandered through the patch and wondered where she
was.
unsown
Flower seeds,
gone unsown.
Flower’s pollen,
gone unblown.
Stem and petals,
gone ungrown.
Wildflowers,
gone unknown.
Bouquet I’d send her,
gone unshown.
Love I’d give her,
gone unknown.
© 2013 ajwrites57
A Long
Wow...
ReplyDeleteThat made me emotional. Thank you for sharing that love.
Thanks Adrianna! I'm glad you liked it! I like to write poems and stories together. Thanks for your comment!
ReplyDeleteVery emotional subject: Love. And even more emotional when the love is gone just like that! thanks for sharing A Long
ReplyDeleteThanks for reading and commenting, Jasveena! Yes, the loss of love is quite painful and emotional. As you say, especially sudden loss.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful. Poignant.I could feel him withering just as the garden did. Love has many faces. I want to know where she went, and why? Why did she leave the garden? Love a mystery! Thank you.
ReplyDeleteThanks for reading and commenting Katherine! Yes, love is sometime here and then gone. we cannot take love for granted. You are welcome!
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