the flower she holds
reflected in her eyes
like a sparkling jewel set in crisp blue satin
with startling loveliness and wistful kind words
it seems to me that the world was an afterthought
she was the perfection that creation needed
the angel to top off the universal christmas tree
the flower tries in vain to compete
but its even a whisp of her in passing
that sends ones mind spinning
just the notion of her makes my heart miss its rhythm

the flowers make wonderful decorations
at the temple each man who has known her
has built
where some sneak away in stealth of night
and gaze up with such wicked wonder at her likeness
but i and others wear her upon our sleeves
like proud hearts singing
like devoted acolytes of a better goddess
she holds up a flower and i see its reflection
in her eyes
the flower is just a thing
she is a universe of warm suns