Lament like a pedalless daffodil.

The bud of one’s stock stands bare.

Is it my tragic flaw to be a fool?

To upset thee intentionally, I wouldn’t dare.

Oh how the winds still wretch me.

I sing of the warmth out of whimsy.

Because the harsh breeze is known to splinter.

My flowers may not last the winter.

Enduring beyond pain is my hallmark.

Freezing rain cannot fracture my heart.

In the spring I may regrow again.

To protest my love for you, my friend.

15 February 2016