The Flower

half of creation
is destruction

I knew a flower, but not her name;
Sweet smelling as a summer day,
She was vibrantly bright, yet plain;
Wild in a pasture she lay.

A thousand others looked the same,
But I loved her more than all the rest;
I needed a sight, and saw her first;
She was vibrantly bright, yet plain.

Now look when you shake your smile and say
That "love is something more than that;"
It's a spark that lights itself aflame,
Sweet smelling as a summer day.

And day by day, and day by day,
She thought with me, heard all my songs
And watched my sleep and soothed my wrongs;
Wild in a pasture, we lay.

When as it must, the right time came,
The tinder burnt to feed the flame,
I plucked my flower and sang of pain;
I knew a flower but not her name.