Begging to be plucked
Loves me, he loves me not
While we’re here
I’ll give it a shot
But before I start
I’ve stopped
Petals remind me of him
A bit too much, a lot
Instead, I lay down
And wish away my want
Begging to be plucked
Loves me, he loves me not
While we’re here
I’ll give it a shot
But before I start
I’ve stopped
Petals remind me of him
A bit too much, a lot
Instead, I lay down
And wish away my want
Oldest Daughter & Red Headed Sister 
Very nice! Hope you’re doing well and enjoying the start of the summer!
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Doing very well, thank you. Great to see you again. 😉 Hope all is well.
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Good to hear! Always good to read your words and see you 🙂
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Thank you, Ben. Always lovely to see you, too.
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“Wish away my want” — what a beautiful phrase, ma’am!!
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Thanks, Debbie. ♡ We’ve all been there, right? Hugs.
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You all okay where you are?
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We are now, Susan. Last Wednesday we had serious flooding. We’ve recovered. Thank you for checking!!! ♡
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You are an important person in my community. ❤
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I appreciate that, Susan. The feeling is quite mutual. ♡
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Odd how scattered some communities are nowadays.
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Agreed. Everyone is so busy or afraid to get close. Sad, really.
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I like people. Most people, anyway. I agree about the busy-ness.
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People can be vexing. I snarl often. 🙂
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Indeed, they can be. Sometimes I manage to vex myself as well.
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Gorgeous capture..
Reminders, like yellow petals,
silently fall to ground
as a sigh is released
matching the sound
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Thank you, Jay. Your poem soothes me. So beautiful, and I can hear this, as I’m right there. Lovely.
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Caressing wishing smiles … 🙂
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Appreciated, Salva. You are a dear. 🙂
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😀
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Not to mention less painful for the flower! ❤
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Yes, indeed, Willow. Can’t have her falling apart. ♡
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The thing to do when falling petals remind you of indecision and no commitment
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Ahh, yes. John, your wisdom is showing again. ♡ Thank you.
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Stupid men anyway.
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Y’all are wonderful!
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Another good one! Love the faded background, that really sets it off. How can the peddles remind you of him?
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Thank you, Duketh. I’m working on the bury background thingy you mentioned a while back. Glad you noticed. Well, have you ever played the game He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not with a flower? She in your case, which I know you haven’t because you’re heartless, but if one thinks of the game tis hard not to think of them, I suppose.
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You know, I’ve actually played that game. But I don’t remember using those words…
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Then you were playing it wrong, Duke.
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I know…won’t even tell you the word I was using! But I was young, so it’s forgivable.
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Sounds like it was heartless.
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*proud the sudden* It was!
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*giggles*
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Okay… First of all… I am truly empathetic for the sadness that lingers in this poetry… Truly I am… It is beautifully written and expressed… but I must confess… that first line made me smile… but of course, we both know that my sense of humor is warped far beyond repair… remember… plucking petals cannot change the heart… beside… if the petals remind you of him… you wouldn’t want to pluck them… or perhaps… you would…
Hope your day is filled with beautiful moments and colorful petals…
Michael
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Good morning, Michael. There is a sadness, but I admit to also chuckling at the first line. But I saw no other way, officer… 😉 I like your adolescent humor, it suits mine. Giggle. Thanks for this smile I have now. Appreciate the lifted spirits. Hope all is well. ♡
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You’ve captured a mood so perfectly.
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Thank you, Luke. Humbled. xx
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Oh, very sorry for this sadness.
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Tis a poem, Shari. My heart will be okay.
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Poems emerge from the poet’s inner dialogues, if not of this very moment, often one from the past. I’m glad to know your heart is OK.
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Yes, Shari, you’re correct. I have felt this pain. Rest assured. We all have, I think. Hugs.
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