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