Flower
Princess
I
sit and quietly contemplate
The way things used to be.
Shedding tears for love I spent
On foolish fantasies.
When all along I prayed someday
A dream would come to me,
Though patience waned and fear prevailed
That it could never be.
Now
here you are in every dream
And every waking hour.
A Princess searching for the same:
That one Forever Flower
That grows in gardens of the soul
And holds a loving power
To give the dream another chance
That fear can not devour.
©Alan
W. Goodson
  
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