Speak in Poetry

[Diva]

Each flower sent is bound in my hair in circles...
bound and wound, 'round and 'round.
Till I am surrounded by the flowers You sent, surrounding me.
Stubborn weeds need water, too,
And flowers 'round profounded me.

Most willingly, I bend to Thee,
And let Your posies take me.
But then the game is gambled, laid.
And I am left to make me.

Wake up and smell the roses grown.
Wake up and smell the coffee.
Wake up and write the dream You live.
Wake up and live, but softly.