Lost Blossom

Mary Naylor  confirmed
From my window I saw you clinging
On the tree that never flowers.
A perfect creamy blossom with a soft, gold center,
A lone decoration on the old gnarled tree,
When the rains stopped, I went to search the branch,
But there was no trace of a flower or the start of a tiny fruit.

Lost blossom, Lost blossom, for every cloudburst
There are raindrops, and every snowstorm leaves snow,
Why even the breeze leaves ripples on the pond.
Lost blossom, where did you go?
Lost blossom, from where did you come?
Shall we meet someday again, perhaps,
When for us time itself shall end?














Published by Mary Naylor confirmed

I was born in Chicago, Illinois in 1933. I grew up in Rhinelander, Wisconsin, a wild and beautiful state, rich in literature and lore. I loved the stories of Paul Bunyon and his ox, Babe. The hoax of t...  View profile

2 Comments

Post a Comment
  • Mike Powers8/4/2011

    Beautifully written! The blossoms of spring and summer fade with the onset of autumn and winter. That always makes me a but wistful as the leaves begin to turn.

  • Delicia Powers8/3/2011

    Powerful imagery, and soul touching Mary, a beautiful work of art, thank you!

Displaying Comments

To comment, please sign in to your Yahoo! account, or sign up for a new account.