SPRING FLOWERS

(a poem by 11 years old  Emma)

Last night,

My dad brought home

A bouquet of fresh flowers,

Wrapped in brown paper and string.

We placed a vase of fresh water

On the table for the flowers.

We untied the string,

And the sweet, sweet aroma of their beauty

Escaped, and glorified the room. 

 

I wondered, how, in these depths of winter,

Spring never fails to crawl in.

How light always finds darkness

How company finds loneliness,

How truth finds lies.

How good wins over evil.

The good needs to be protected,

The truth needs to be preserved,

The company upheld,

The light guided.

The spring flowers watered.

(Emma Dimitrova, my 11 years old daughter, 11/1/20)