Orchid

You bought the orchid for me in the spring.
Fresh and perfect new, she bloomed to our
first bloom
of love.

Pretty dainty pink the blossoms drooped
from fragile stems;
blushed sweetly at the talk
of love and touch
of tenderness.
Our love grew stronger,
taller,
deeper;
fortified by sun, attention blessed new flowers
to grow and
smile upon the world.

But gradual blooms, like love,
must fade and change;
the orchid wilts and
begins
to drop her petals to the earth.
Careful I water, nourish, feed;
tend to her with care but still she fades
and now
she falls.
No flowers now to brighten;
leaves lost their lustre and their spark
of live diminished.
Still I strive but all it seems
to no avail.

And now I only live,
desperate in her barrenness;
clinging to a fragile hope,
however distant,
of her one
eventual
re-birth.