Voca(b)ouquet

You said you longed for flowers,
So I thought I’d write you a bouquet—
Each bloom composed of chosen words
To mirror the grace you give away.

First comes the moonflower’s gleam,
Its radiance soft, serene, and true—
A symbol of how your light still shines
When the world feels cold and blue.

Next, an orchid, pale and rare,
With hues that shift in subtle glow—
Much like your eyes, opalescent,
Where vibrant, secret colors flow.

Then lavender, in fragrant verse,
Its song a gentle, lilting hum—
A tribute to your voice’s music,
Where tenderness and beauty come.

A lotus follows, pure and wise,
Rising from the quiet deep—
Reflecting how your mind ascends,
With depths of thought and truths you keep.

At last, the rare Elysian rose,
A bloom of love not bound by time—
A soul-born grace you offer freely,
Both sacred and sublime.

This gift may lack a stem or scent,
No petals you can feel or see—
But what it holds transcends the tangible:
A bloom that lives eternally.