her dress

flows along her hips;

sleek,

unconfined,

free.

only one solid shade of

mauve,

but under the lights,

the vibrant hues,

blink back at you.

and under the lights,

oh god,

under the lights,

she is more beautiful

than an entire blooming garden.

her grave causes

sunshine to

sprout,

flourish,

thrive,

from my chest.

lilac,

my ethereal love.

Oh dear, you're a goddess in my sight—

Dancing gracefully like a butterfly in flight.

What have you done to me? I'm mesmerized

By your beauty that soared to the skies.

My noble queen your ambitions are high,

To reach the sun, even gravity can't defy.

Carrying an exotic beauty you persevered—

Death of your almost dying breed.

She grows in hidden places,

And lures me with her scent,

I search but cannot find her,

But never feel lament,

Her name is Purple Lady,

An Orchid oh so rare,

And though I cannot hear her,

Her words drift everywhere,

Her form is omnipresent,

Yet hidden from my view,

This flora is incessant,

As beautiful as you.

The park bench is his home

Cornsilk hair a fluffy puff

In his hands, always some tome

He acts as he is; delicate, the least tough

A scholar, he is at heart

A heart of gold, has he

But none will take the part

Of sitting with the man so wee

And so he remains, lone in his respite

He will stay there indefinitely, till his hair falls, grown white