The Story of a Flower

This is the story of a flower --

It got its blue color from its father - the sky

Mother Earth nurtured it, and raised it high;

The passing wind cradled it in its arms

The rain showered it in purity and filled its palms;

Thus born and blossomed, it was the most beautiful thing around

For a sheer glimpse of it, the people flocked abound;

It was the object of portrayal for many a painter

And made its place in every sculpture;

Scores of honeybees drank from its cup of nectar

The birds rushed in chorus to compose their twitter;

The wind carried its fragrance to far and wide

The garden enjoyed its popularity with pride;

Then came a day when it died

The inconsolable creatures cried;

The death, though, could only touch the body

It lived in the memories in spite of the tragedy;

It was a short but significant life

Worthy of all adulation and love.