Today's prompt was inspired by the Victorian language of flowers, which I am fascinated by!
Yellow Roses - Jealousy, betrayal
All summer long they bloomed,
the yellow roses in the garden,
and right into autumn too
hardy to all wind and rain.
A splash of honey sun until I knew
their ill-bearing connotations;
jesters of brightness, a dozen
false suns mocking my bad luck.
Who said friendliness lived here
in their garish petals?
Canary loud reminder of the love
gone to spoil, the wound
that festers still. Optimism snagged
on reality's thorns, the bruise to bear.
The yellow of Van Gogh's despair,
heart jaundiced by a wrong affair.
Lily of the Valley - a return to happiness
It's where we always knew, but
not really. Green fields of ordinary days.
Trees blooming, bettering the way.
Where forward was not a notion, but a motion
under the blue sky invitations of May.
Some day then maybe, in that benevolent month ahead -
when these clouds will have scattered
and time again, is white, bright and blooming,
our teardrops shed will be blessings re-made.
And we will walk through the days, those fairy flowers
tinkling beneath our feet, their bells of mirth
ringing out - happiness returned, happiness again -
all the more sweet, all the more adored.