Strolling along a mountain road,
breathing in the cool air,
viewing the splendid sights,
layed out before me without a care.
Continuing on my journey,
I come across two beautiful bouquets,
propped by rocks at mountain's top.
Who are they for, what are they for,
who left them here?
I ponder on this, snapping a shot.
So fresh, so lovely, so beautiful,
crisp petals and vivid color.
I am perplexed by this sight,
standing alone, on mountains edge.
Turning to leave, I look back,
deciding these flowers
were here for me instead.
hate finding bouquets makes me sad thinking they are left in memory of someone ...but loved your poem thank you x
ReplyDelete...nice conclusion
ReplyDeleteyes they probably were...love retreating to the woods i find solace there...and tell me what piece did you read the other night?
ReplyDeleteDrink in the world, and let it stir the soul...each sight is for that soul that witnessed it. Hopefully I'll see some of that beauty shortly, as I myself step out into the mountains...
ReplyDeleteBeautiful work Gwen!
ReplyDeleteA beautiful experience nicely told.
ReplyDeletePS Lovely photo too!
ReplyDeleteFantastic! You never know what gifts await when your eyes are open to see. Bravo, Poet! Enjoyed the mountain stroll
ReplyDeleteSo much beauty when we take the time to notice, lovely!
ReplyDeleteincredible.
ReplyDelete