Lotus
This flower of mine, I’ve watched it grow
As I drew ever more attracted so;
It’s got its thorns, and it can fight,
But its beauty is an unmatched sight.
A pride and joy, though I had no part
In its rising up from humble start
Of a seed within another bloom;
It’s just genetics, I assume.
That something so great can come of weeds
Bred with a frail yet loving rose
Mayhap a pixie tended it;
The fantastic realm certainly shows.
In time it will, like all things, age;
Wilt away in quiet rage
Yet so far as these humble eyes see
It’s ever bathed in pure beauty.
(2013)
