Your perennial glow,
Basking under the lucent twilight,
Oh, I picture it so vividly, so thorough,
My memory swings it left and right.

Your dewy petals of amethyst,
It would catch my perspiration
with no intimidation.
Its clad with the ashes of time itself,
Altering the seconds so intrinsically,
Slowing it down for my eyes to ease.

Your flimsy stalk, tracing a crescent arc
I could snap it, but its brimming with pollen,
That shimmers like sequin, like it was
preserved from the Garden of Eden.
Oh, but if only it was still fecund
I could still seep out a ray of the sun.

Past the primroses and sunflowers,
I always come back to the periwinkle,
Lingering in my wishes and reveries.
And when my heart does make a flicker,
Under the crease of twilight, it appears before me.