THE FLOWER I GREW

Back to poetry at last. I tried to write one short poem a day but it was too difficult to keep up, so I thought maybe I should let myself be driven by the muses, rather than force them.

Then out of nowhere, a poem about lost love fell out. Don’t worry - it’s not a reflection of me at all, just a sort of poetic exercise, as you’ll see from the unusual rhyming scheme. If I ever get back to performing at the slam, or anywhere else for that matter, maybe this will make a melancholy experience for all those who say I only know how to be silly. Or perhaps this is just a different kind of silly. Though obviously don’t tell my poetry friends down at the slam; they take it all a bit more seriously.

The Flower I Grew

The flower I grew
In a terracotta pot
Was a gift for you;
Was a thing of beauty
I would not
Have quickly crushed
Or worse, forgot…
But the flower I grew
With its delicate glow
Was young and new
Those months ago

The flower I grew
With a watery eye
Was a thing that you
In some empty way
Let curl and die
And crisp and fall
And fade and fly
For the flower I grew
Now lost to a time
Was best I knew
Not yours, but mine