To end up alone
in a tomb of a room
without cigarettes
or wine--
just a lightbulb
and a potbelly,
grayhaired,
and glad to have
the room.
...in the morning
they're out there
making money:
judges, carpenters,
plumbers, doctors,
newsboys, policemen,
barbers, carwashers,
dentists, florists,
waitresses, cooks,
cabdrivers...
and you turn over
to your left side
to get the sun
on your back
and out
of your eyes.
from "All's Normal Here" - 1985

There was once a hungry lonely lion
Who hadn’t any friends
It never stopped him from trying
But it was too late to make amends

He had eaten Mr. Zebra for dinner
And Sir Buffalo for the crunch
The animals thought him a sinner
When he ate Mrs. Kangaroo up for lunch

He didn’t get invited to Giraffe’s party
It quickly created a void
He heard it was chill and hearty
And they played a lot of Pink Floyd

The lonely lion sighed
His carnivorous desires left him bleak
As much as he really tried
New friends were impossible to seek

One fine day he was struck
By a lightning of epiphany
This idea could very well bring him luck
And end his spell of infamy

While on the toilet seat
He browsed through a magazine page
A new diet with no meat
Seemed to suddenly be all the rage

He grabbed a bowl of grass
And ignored his craving for gazelle
He’d decided to be a lion with class
As he excitedly snacked on lightly salted pretzels

For breakfast he had a juice
And Mrs. Parrot noticed it was kale
Soon the lonely lion declared a truce
And Mrs. Parrot squawked of his vegan tale

For lunch the lion ate cauliflower
And the animals gasped in shock
“Come animals, witness my vegan power!”
Roared the lion as he chewed on a grassy stalk

Soon the animals welcomed the lion
Except Mrs. Owl who was wise
There’s something about him I'm not buyin’
I just can’t seem to believe all his lies

When there was finally peace in the forest
The lion threw a grand feast
He called the best chefs and the florists
To give his new friends a treat

The spread was mighty splendid
All the dishes were vegan and gluten-free
And when the dinner had ended
The animals sipped on piping hot tea

“You’re generous and astounding!
Our herbivore brother and kind beast
This transformation has been confounding
But thank you for the wonderful feast!”  

The lion was now glowing with pride
In the animal kingdom he was admired
But something rumbled from deep inside
Something in just the way he was wired

His hunger which he ignored
Came bursting through the seams
The satisfied lion now got bored
With his desperate vegan diet dreams

He pounced on Mr. Rabbit
And gobbled him up pretty fast
Blame it on the bad habit
But his vegan diet did not last

He ate Mr. Deer and Mr. Moose
Yet his tummy growled for some more
He ate Mr. Hare and Mrs. Goose
Until nobody was left on the forest floor

The owl watched completely flustered
as her friends were brutally killed
Mr fox and his wife covered in mustard
gobbled by the lion who was weak willed

I apologize for my condition
My weakness is delicious meat
I need to tend to my nutrition
And thus I must simply eat

I truly am sorry said the lion Stud
As the night grew silently grim
But the chances of us being real buds
Are unfortunately pretty slim

London fashion designer ­Carmina De Young is bringing her first ready-to-wear collection to market with the support of two local fashion mavens, wardrobe and image consultant Susan Jacobs, and business mentor Gloria Dona.

De Young’s Spring/Summer 2016 collection is now available by appointment at the Pop with Purpose studio,

The studio recently held an informal fashion show featuring De Young’s collection.

De Young was born and raised in Puebla, Mexico and discovered her passion as a young child, taking inspiration from her mother’s creative flair for fashion and design.

A graduate of Fanshawe College’s Fashion Design program, De Young’s clothing has been showcased locally and on national platforms, including at Vancouver Fashion Week and at the Caisa Fashion Show at Western University.

De Young started her own label in 2012 and now has a 25-piece ready-to-wear collection ranging from office to casual activities to a night on the town.

Each piece is available in size XS to XL with prices ranging from $79 to $259.

Instead of trying to break into the notoriously-difficult retail market, Dona and Jacobs offered to bring the De Young collection directly to London women through the Pop with Purpose studio.

“We love that we can offer women locally designed and manufactured clothing where they know the designer and know that they are helping make dreams come true,” says Jacobs. “There’s power in that. It’s incredible.”

Topspin scoops award

London-based Topspin Technologies Ltd., has been awarded the Synapse Life Sciences award for innovation in health. Their product, the Topspin360, beat out more than 60 invited applicants for products that demonstrate an innovation in health in Ontario.

This award follows the London-based Techalliance “Techcellence” award the company won earlier this year.

The Topspin360 is the first patented training device that helps improve neck muscles to reduce concussion risk.

Theo Versteegh, who earned his PhD in physiotherapy from Western University in 2016, developed the device after watching the Sidney Crosby hit in 2011 that caused his concussion.

Versteegh found that many sports concussions are the result of the whiplash effect.

The Topspin can be used in all sports, especially those at high risk for concussion, and also in military applications.

Northerner joins Fortune

David Ramsay, a former cabinet minister in the government of the Northwest Territories, has joined the board of directors of London-based Fortune Minerals .

Ramsay has more than 20 years of elected public office experience in the Northwest Territories. His cabinet portfolios included industry, justice, transportation and public utilities.

Fortune is working with three levels of government on infrastructure projects important to the success of the company’s NICO gold-cobalt-bismuth-copper project in the Northwest Territories.

One project is a 94-kilometre all-season highway to the community of Whati, northwest of Yellowknife.

The road is supported by the Tlicho Government, a Dene First nation and would reduce the cost of living and improve the quality of life in the outlying Tlicho communities and promote economic activity. Fortune has already received environmental assessment approval to build a spur road from Whati to the NICO mine.

Delta hosts bridal show

The London Wedding Professionals will hold their second Bridal Showcase at the Delta London Armouries on April 30.

The event offers a smaller, more intimate experience for brides to meet local wedding industry experts, ask questions, and get inspired for their wedding day.

The show features products and services from professionals including gowns, photography, florists, venues, DJs, hair and makeup and wedding planners.

The showcase also puts a focus on inspiring brides with Vignettes throughout the space showcasing different themes or colour palettes.

The show runs from 11 a.m-3 p.m. and admission is free.

Student makes his pitch

Sean Cornelius from St. André Bessette Catholic secondary school in London is one of 20 teenage entrepreneurs heading to Toronto May 8–10 to compete in this year’s edition of the Young Entrepreneurs, Make Your Pitch competition

Selected from the 204 two-minute video pitches entered, Cornelius earned the right to participate in a Dragon’s Den-style pitch contest at Discovery, Ontario Centres of Excellence’s annual innovation-to-commercialization conference, to be held on May 9 at Metro Toronto Convention Centre.

Hamilton Road looks ahead

Business people in the Hamilton Road will hold an information meeting Wednesday about the creation of the Community Improvement Plan that could lead to the creation of the Hamilton Road Business Improvement Area. The meeting will be held at 7 p.m. at the BMO Sports Centre on Rectory St. and guest speakers include Mayor Matt Brown and MPP Teresa Armstrong.Read more at:www.marieaustralia.com/****-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/vintage-formal-dresses

The last transmission.
From the porch, tones entangle.
The knot is a loss.
The soft scales break your waters.
The gleam revals the rlin.
To pieice your heart and question why not sooner.
It is trust.
You must follow, you must not stray.
The fable sings of loss.
A brash whimper.

Everything thing you are about to read is the whole truth, and nothing but...

she flew
via jet blue,
da coop

decamped urban lands,
leaving poet producing this
piece de (at-the-door poem-de crap) resistance:

Sad mad bad

where I asked?

a mountain in Mexico,
where purpled pink wild flowers decorate,
and the yoga mat is never rolled up
and post pampering included!

harrumph,
and worse,
exclaimed

NYC got florists
and yogi masters
for hire

with my sisters,
will commune,
hike by dawn light,
eat veggies day and night
and bone my body
with exercise

Manhattan got veggies, central parks,
and occasionally a pretty dawn,
bone doctors extraordinaire,
don't you know the best veggies,
grown in Whole Foods in the
Time Warner Center?

go then, leaving poet,
sad mad bad

to salve my soul,
know this!

I am eating
a tuna Swiss melt,
French Fries and ketchup,
Danish made with Danish cheese,
drinking my fatte latte.

This my stress,
so well expressed,
but baby, be advised,

I am doing it,
in our bed!

all day tv watching,
crushed neath an inconsolable need
to do all those spiritual things
of which you disapprove!

you went down the long hallway
at 6am,
you thot you heard me say,

Leila, you got me on my knees!

what was said but this:

*Save me babe,
from doing as I please!

IV - The Lost Trumpet. (April 2011).

A girl loses her trumpet
and she’s ever so sad.
She can’t find it
but a young boy does.
He searched high and low,
to and fro,
before spotting it
and giving it back.
The girl is delighted,
falls in love straight away.
They marry.
The boy stops a tormenter
from hurting his girl.
Ears bleed.
Then the girl says she is moving on.
The boy doesn’t like this
so tries to win her back;
he locates her and they sleep under stars.
They wake up together.
To be continued?

V - The Moment. (May 2011).

Bus.
Way back to school.
Can’t remember the day.
Talking as usual about the upcoming end.
P says how about doing a simple thing, not too big.
Something like chocolates or flowers, why go over the top?
Flowers, doesn’t everyone do that?
But it’s May, only a month to go.
Flowers it will have to be.
Red and pink.
Great.

VI - The Discussions. (21st/22nd June 2011).

So, are you ready? Here’s how it will go…
I’ll sit the exam, you turn up towards the end.
We’ll meet up in the common room and walk back to my town,
down to the florists, then somehow go back to school
without anybody seeing them all before quarter past one.
No, wait...

Later…

Change of plan, I’ll sit the exam still,
two and a half hours, I know, but anyway, you meet me
in the common room once it’s over, then we’ll go into town
because there’s actually a florists there, didn’t know that earlier,
buy them, make sure no one sees us,
head back to school, all before quarter past one right?
Wait for her to arrive, then you dash off with them,
I relax with a nice brew in class, and right at the end
when she’s getting on the bus I come up to you,
take them, run to her,
give them to her before she goes, mutter what needs to be said
and then it’s over. Maybe a hug, who knows?
This has to work. If it all goes wrong
there’s the envelope from the other month to hand over in its place.
Got that? Good.
She’s bound to ruin it though ain’t she?

swirls of pollyfilla
with the texture of halva
and osais, the green stuff
florists stick flowers into,
birds wouldn't nest in it.

If he asks you if you're with someone
Say your mom's waiting in station two
Always give the man your extra change
Chances are that he won't report you

If you ignore them, they'll ignore you
Who cares about some curious kid?
For the first time being thought to be stupid
Might actually play to your advantage

And if anyone dares to ask you how old you are
Say you're old enough to know better  than to tell them
Don't talk to anybody, no one will talk to you
You're not going to fall for them again

Be careful not to say a single word
You don't need the strangers' gaze
You know exactly where you're walking to
And you know all one thousand ways

Feel the morning air cool on your skin
Soak it in, you won't walk this way again
Stop by at the florists' shop
Breathe in the flowers' scent

You said you won't stop for anything
But maybe you'd stop for me
You walked in empty-handed
But you walked out with an orchid leaf

And maybe you might try to text me
You've done it eight thousand times
Your pride stops you from saying sorry
But you're hoping I'll read between the lines

And after everything's been done
The sand is beautiful when it's moonlit
Your family's been frantic, where've you been
Shake your head, they wouldn't get it

And maybe when I open my door tonight
I'll find a beautiful orchid leaf
And maybe when I stare out the window tonight
I'll know you're dreaming of me

I'll know you're finally sorry
And I'll know you're dreaming of me

In the middle
of a predicament

picking flowers for   you
   just because

rows of unusual names
green tubes dipped
with delicate baubles of colour

I’m eyeing up
   a volcano of roses

as a fuzzy aroma
   tickles my nose
   swirls into   my mouth

but aren’t roses cliché

aren’t bouquets the go-to gift
   for girlfriends
for friends   who are girls

I groan at the price
   but do it   just because

and because the woman said so
I choose a squad of others

so later

when   you place them in a glass vase

every time you smell that   funny smell

   you’ll think of roses
you’ll think of me

and us

poem after poem
at online poetry sites
you find is another love poem
Oh Susi
your eyes are like fire
and my heart is hot
for your touch
OK, fair enough
everybody falls in love
and we got to keep the human race pumping
OK, I guess that's good
it keeps the Valentine's Day industry going
and the florists make some money
and if I run an Indian restaurant
you might drop in
to get your baby hot with chilli
and I get some money...
so it's all good...
Oh Man of my Dreams
I shall love you till eternity
and then forever -
and always I'll wash your dishes
and then there is the other thing
more disturbing
than a ***** love-sick stalker
that every other person who falls  in love
or wants to
(even if nobody wants to in return)
seems filled with a scratching need
to write a love poem
and so you write another love poem -
oh no - not another love poem!
Oh, when God created
the world
he created you for me
and me for you
and we for we
OK, if you must inflict it on others
this love poem of yours:
how is it different?
you know -
all loves are the same
but how's your love poem  different?

people mill about,
most tourists, some locals,
looking at all the shiny jewelry
and the hand-made palm-frond baskets,
feeling the money in their pockets
and the sun on the back of their necks,
and somewhere else in the world
the president plots a drone strike
on a desolate desert in Asia,
and two Dutch florists make love
after a beautiful anniversary dinner,
and a spider dies silently after falling
under the sandal of a Brazilian child,
and somewhere there is an old rotting
apple left out from the morning meal,
and somewhere a scientist is weeping
with joy at his or her new discovery,
and somewhere there is a boy weeping
at the loss of his first and only love,
and somewhere people make a toast,
and somewhere someone drinks alone,
and somewhere there is a man writing
poetry about a place he just returned
from.

and somewhere there is a day,
and somewhere there is a night,
and somewhere the sun is just setting,
and somewhere the sun is just about
to rise.

Ahh Valentine's Day is here,
the florists will bustle,
the suitors will scheme,
especially, purposefully,
to make themselves clean

the worry, the fear, rejection, heart's seared,,
the conquest, the prize, the look in her eyes,
the candies and rings, and many shiny things,
leave them all wanting, with no stability near

I have a romance, too big for this day,
throughout, every moment, never to sway,
that is the romance that I will tell you about,
I long for you, pursue you, do not have a doubt

My eyes are set, on the bride I want
I see her, I lead her, I long, to her, flaunt,
She comes down the aisle, ragged dress, beaten, free
When I look into her heart, it's my Son that I see.

So because of that one thing
I will never her leave.  
I put him there, I sustain
a good work, I will complete.

The day I marry her, the inside will be
adorning the bride, her anguish relieved
I will never, not ever, because of her dress,
abandon her, leave her, because she's a mess

So until that day comes, I will tell you this tale,
of my bride who I love, who I will never fail
In the storms, she may hide
in the boats deepest space
but I will walk on water and through glass,
to be by her side.

Roses can be White
Yellow or shades of Pink
But the Red are more expensive
Or so florists like to think

The seeds look very similar
Whenever you plant your borders
But once they show their truer form
It's too late to change your order

The day old Eddie Barricade
Departed from this world
The florists turned a busy trade
And handkerchiefs unfurled
The sky was blue and overcast
And the ****** Mary cried
A flock of emus hurried past
The day that Eddie died

The day that Eddie Barricade
Was buried in the ground
Lightning struck a chambermaid
And twirled the girl around
A cow gave birth to a marching band
For seven hours steady
A vicar grew an extra hand
The day they buried Eddie

"Sit with me, she said, no recognition in her eyes
The heavy stones within my bones where more than I could hide
Were with her when she died, and
softly asked to sit with me,
I sat and twitched, but couldn't switch,
the minutes she'd float free
I waited to be free, to lay the dog down at her feet
Her life had come into the sum of,
"Come and sit with me"
The heavy stones inside my bones where more than I could hide
And all the tears I cried on tides, not helping her or me
The day before with heavy stones,
had gone and bought the wreath
I'd almost ditched the florists switch,
with tears on shorelines tide
The heavy stones within my bones weren't helping her or me
And all the sum, that started from,
a love gone lost at sea
It ended with a final breath, She said
“Come sit with me”

Written by Sara Fielder © May 2015

work they say
when I'm at
work
writing poems
when I should
hush
please don't tell anyone
except everyone
accept everyone
poets florists carpenters painters plumbers clowns kings
the exiled
breath their warm woes waiting
the day the sun rises on their shoulders.

If you wish to grow these
sunflowers within my blue walls

Know that I am a house
the sun never visits, but I have:

Vacant rooms
with burning lovers

Floors
with footprints of dead florists

Albums
with nostalgic photographs of her

A single bed
on my scorching roof

Stairs
that creak to the rhythm of my growing pain

Doors
with engraved haikus

Mirrors
that reflect her image in front of my blue walls

A lot of
things can
happen, when you
walk down, your street,
with the people you see, and greet.
Mrs Love from number 22,
smiled towards me.
I put my head down,
and continued to walk on, eyes on the ground.
Not all people, to greet.

Mr Woodward gave me wave,
I waved back, in a sort of quick way,
then proceeded on my way.

Miss Layton caught my eye,
and would not give it back,
so I stopped for chat,
made sure there would be none of that.

Got to the florists,
sniff a few flowers,
then went back to sleep.

A lot of
things can
happen, when you
walk down your street.

Think this might be on going in my mind!!!

The thought I threw into this snow shall stir
The thought and dream so wedded to
The thought arose, "My cross I cannot bear.
The thought behind I strove to join
The thought beneath so slight a film
The thought bred strength. I slowly drew my arms
The thought dashed. It recoiled, as, with the gift,
The thought divine within them till it blossomed into stone
The thought grew frightful, 't was so wildly dear! 40
The thought grew stronger with my growing days,
The thought has been embodied to our years.
The thought has just occurred to me
The thought has melted, vanished into night;
The thought in crimson dyed his cheek,
The thought in the brain of that weak
The thought is falser far.
The thought is not pleasant, yet, what we can't cure,
The thought is quiet as a flake, --
The thought it whispers to thine ear!
The thought makes me nervous. I vow and declare.
The thought not pleasureless of suffer'd pains
The thought o' Mary Morison.
The thought of Brutus[57]--for his was not there!
The thought of England, fresh beneath the rain,
The thought of God is like the tree
The thought of God will rouse the heart
The thought of God, the thought of thee,
The thought of God, the thought of thee, 224.
The thought of Love Immortal blends
The thought of Rabicane detained the knight.
The thought of Thy immensity;
The thought of a shut gate of Paradise,
The thought of an alien race,
The thought of another?"
The thought of beauty gone too swiftly by.
The thought of birds,
The thought of both: "Yon crescent see!
The thought of death -- approach he fast or slow --
The thought of death alone, the fear destroys.
The thought of death being always imminent,
The thought of death can't enter for the throng?
The thought of death shall, like a god, inspire.
The thought of death sits easy on the man
The thought of death, sole victor of its dread!
The thought of death, which reason, too supine,
The thought of death? That thought is the machine,
The thought of dinners good
The thought of having lost the precious ring;
The thought of heaven's great King afar
The thought of her distress, her lips to kiss,
The thought of her doth heau'nly rage inspire,
The thought of her was like a flash of light
The thought of her was like a flash of light,
The thought of her, exposed to shame and pain,
The thought of her, who once did sing
The thought of him away.
The thought of him who has left me
The thought of holding man to his account,
The thought of it doth make my faint heart bleed,
The thought of it made mother cry,
The thought of it shall wake:
The thought of life that ne'er shall cease
The thought of long-past actions sanctifies
The thought of my shortcomings in this life
The thought of never-ending rest!
The thought of old, dear things is in thine eyes,
The thought of one great, universal heart,
The thought of one whose smiling lips up-curled,
The thought of one, now gone from us,--
The thought of our loved ones at home in the West--
The thought of our past years in me doth breed
The thought of parting shall not lie
The thought of six-and-eightpence
The thought of some new order and the lust of change.
The thought of some true friend may bless,
The thought of spiritual transmigration
The thought of that imperial rite
The thought of that one morning. And her being
The thought of that strange tale divine,
The thought of the Quaker is living still,
The thought of the woman (that sweet, subtle power
The thought of the horror he felt, beguiles
The thought of the swiftest lifts and blesses?
The thought of thee a moment from my soul.
The thought of thee all sorrow calms;
The thought of thee began.
The thought of thee can make all turmoil cease;
The thought of thee is home!
The thought of thee is mightier far
The thought of thee shall tremble there
The thought of thee, above, below,
The thought of thee--and in the blue Heaven's height,
The thought of thee--and in the blue heaven's height,
The thought of their enraptured gaze
The thought of this begets that brave disdain
The thought of this bids me go on
The thought of thousands, while thy noble heart
The thought of thy kiss, which awakens
The thought of vengeance on me, never quite
The thought of violets meant florists' shops,

My good friend thinks well of me.
I like it when she's around.
She has a heart that's caring,
Love in it there does abound.

There is an immense beauty,
That's found in my good friend's heart;
In my heart from that of hers,
Gently love it does impart.

Florists are known for roses,
And forget-me-nots of blue;
But these flowers can't excel,
My friend's heart that's gold and true.

I must be thought highly of,
My heart is touched by her love.

4/28/2013

I'm laying here remembering,
All the things I wanted to do.
And the realization is hitting me,
That those things weren't meant for you.

But still a part of me has those desires,
Those things on my bucket list.
The list of romance before I die,
The one I started after my first kiss.

Simple things like hide and seek,
Playing in the rain at the end of a week.
Or walking through the florists rows,
Stopping to smell every lily and rose.

To sit together in the mall,
Just watching the people, no words at all.
To go to the skate park across town,
Laugh about it when we fall down.

Don't come home till four a.m.
Parents worried, but reassured then.
Smile and nod to admonishment,
But never sorry for such a night spent.

Walks through the park with no reason,
Enjoying the life and leaves of the season.
Play with puppies like they were our own,
To pull you away with a smile and groan.

To wander on through the fair,
Loving everything without a care.
I throw the darts to pop balloons,
And win you a bear like some cartoon.

The late night Skype calls when we part,
Imagining the beating of your heart.
To bring you flowers because I can,
Grin at your suspicions of my plan.

To take you places to see random things,
And to kiss you softly above the springs.
Take you fishing just to watch you tire,
So that we can laze around by the fire.

The arrival of the storm and thunder,
Brings us out to enjoy the wonder.
Under blankets in the back of my truck,
Trying to see where the lightning struck.

And to the lake all summer long,
Singing our newest and favorite song.
The sun gives way to starry skies,
That bring us together like twisty ties.

To show you the loft up in the barn,
Then take a walk around the farm.
When dusk sets we find the hay,
Then watch the stars move as we lay.

These just a few on my fated list,
So many things I cannot describe.
I don't know that I like it now,
So unfulfilled inside.

I really doubt that I will complete,
All but a few of the above.
They all require one improbable thing:
Someone with which to love.

light has always had a dutiful role
in taking individual loveliness of nature and making it whole
it slips, spills, swims,
even into our world of a real life sims

light has an ability to take a human to their natural core
in preventing truth to be eclipsed as it was once before
in one’s eyes there is nothing left to hide
soon as light meets them and they collide

light has exposed even the purest pigments
in birth of brown and blue as something of wild figments
glowing windows to redwood forests
or bouquets of forget-me-not flowers from the florists

light has made us susceptible to vulnerability
in stripping away what shields humility
the relationship between what allows sight and light
steadily symbiotic and positively polite

Please plug the flood in my mind.
Pouring like entrancing zebras
prancing shimmering florists
in jackets of hourglass sand.
For they whisper unknown
dimensions of glory
through which I must answer to.
A coin of two sides and infinite meaning.
A part of all things.
apart from all things.
Once you see it,
you can believe it,
dream it, be it.
like the legit twits, lit
as roses in the holy light
of McDonalds.
It's ghastly clown arithmetic
burning its disability into our pours.
Like plasma jelly,
purple and vinyl,
shining like a princely jazz nightmare.
Scribbling on the pink waves of our brains
with sugars and lightening,
with gripping consequence.
like children at play.
like a blade.
like having purpose.
like a mothers kiss.

They made a new flower,
those scientist people,
they say it's never gonna wilt
when we cut it off from the stem.

"A revolution", a big deal
for gardeners and florists and supermarkets
who'll never sell flowers
in the same way again.
Lots of flowers sitting around.

Sappy couples and sad families
buy all those flowers, pretty flowers,
now they just look nice
everyday. Today they're pretty
and tomorrow they're pretty,
the day after tomorrow
they're still pretty.

Buy 'em once, throw 'em once
on the graves or countertops,
they're here to stay now.
The same flowers just piling up.

When the hyacinths blossom,
They're a lovely sight to see,
They release a sweet fragrance,
While they show off their beauty.

When rose buds are unfurling,
Their petals then open wide,
They're flowers so prestigious,
In which all florists take pride.

Dandelions when in bloom,
Are found growing profusely.
Kids pick them for their mothers,
And also for their beauty.

Orchids bloom in the tropics,
And indoors where there is heat,
Some are known for their beauty,
Some are known for being sweet.

Lilacs come in lavender,
And  various colors too;
When it comes to their sweetness,
The ones I prefer are blue.

They pick circular crowns of flowers
recalling their loved ones’ favorite colors and their quirky inclinations to dress using a certain shade of green or purple.

Lulu died as a baby so, her mom,
my aunt Hermelinda and Lulu’s younger sister Licha add her to the list of people that need floral crowns while counting relatives on their fingers.

Generations of loved ones equate to my small statured aunt, taking multiple trips from the florists’ shop to her car.

florists' prized flower
organic blooms edible
past tense of rise, rose