From curling roots to slender neck, it bore
Exotic blooms of purest milky white
So beautiful; it cared for nothing more
Than earthen pot and water, air and light.
I watched this trusting orchid weeks gone by,
Its glory crowned with brisk vitality.
Now vicious Time proves naive trust a lie –
Our simple joy could not forever be.
Call my heart this fragile, dying flower:
Your hand its petals crushed and tore away.
The troth I’d pledged you brought it grief this hour;
In dawn’s harsh light I rue our yesterday.
Could I undo the gift of love I made!
I’d sooner be an orchid carved from jade.
Copyright (C) Vox Mortuum 2011
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