Take your lilies.
Discard them.
Throw them in death's deepest bin.
Instead bring me roses.
Violently dressed in raging red.
Violent not in physical way.
In violence as in passions play.

Can't afford red roses?
Make me tissue ones.
Break to bits an  old coat hanger, with a pair of metal clippers.
Over which you must mould the form of petals.
Created out of tissue.
To ripple in the breeze.
Never again my darling will you bring me to my knees!
Tissue paper flowers will never make me sneeze.
But should they  maybe make me cry.
The floral tissues deconstructed could wipe my sodden eyes!
(C) LIVVI