• Dearly Beloved

    It was the brightest of evenings, lit only by sky.
    I walked amongst hills to feel the breeze.
    Suddenly, a dew drop fell from up high.
    Its destination brought upon me to freeze.
    A mass of impending flowers caught my eye.
    Only one of them felt right to sincerely possess.
    I pulled ever so gently, as if I were shy,
    but it wasn't ready, it needed time to progress.
    I respectfully left to return at a later spell
    and a horrible surprise lie there at wait.
    In that past location, my flower wasn't there to dwell.
    So was she too early? Or was I too late?