BY THE BUNCH OR BASKET

Flowers, by the bunch or basket,

In the market - on a shelf,

Though I can ill afford them,

I'm going to buy some for myself.

Oh such flowers, pretty flowers,

All those colors, all those hues,

Like a blanket - or a banquet,

Either word is right to use.

The aroma - oh, the fragrance,

It takes me to another place,

I close my eyes - I am transported,

I travel on the wings of grace.

I'm in a meadow; it reaches wide,

There are flowers everywhere,

It is Spring; I am alive,

I'm breathing in sweet scented air.

I'm young, I'm vibrant; see me dance,

I bend, I stretch, I twirl a bit,

I think I am in love again,

I bow, I sway, I'm loving it.

Beneath my feet rose petals

Are strewn by tiny hands,

I clutch a precious rose bouquet,

Then exchange it for a golden band.

Flowers, flowers through the years,

Each unique - one of a kind,

Each flower brings a special tear,

All recalling special times.

Daisies - youthful fantasies,

Pansies - with forever smiles,

Nosegays held in grubby fists,

Offered shyly by a child.

On a stem - Cymbidiums,

A touch of elegance,

Gardenias - first corsages,

First date - first dance - romance.

I cry at tender Violets,

Oh, how my mother loved them,

I see her garden in my mind,

God bless those bright Geraniums.

Lilacs, Lilies, Peonies,

Daffodils, Jonquils, Asters,

Claims upon my joys or pains,

Temporarily my masters.

Surrounded by such beauty,

In this noisy, glaring store,

Not fitting, to say the least,

But wait - there's something more.

I see another tearful soul,

As transfixed as I,

Her dress suggests to me,

She, also, should not buy.

But there we stand - the two of us,

As we wait in line to pay,

We smile at one another,
Get our flowers - go on our way.

Virginia (Ginny) Ellis

Copyright 2002