My Poetry. To Die, and Live again.

 Delicate flowers 
 swaying freely 
 amid a windy backdrop 
 Slight protection.  
 Behind a broken wall 
 being saved by stone 
 sunshine opening buds 
 swollen by the heat 
 desperate to bloom
 petals still strong
 Newly formed.
 Morning dew evident
 now splattered on the wall
 flowers now grouped
 feeling stronger in numbers
 wind dying down
 aroma in the air
 flowers now still
 content, happy
 closing for the night
 ready to face
 Another day.
 Birds pecking at petals
 bees buzzing around pollen
 flowers dying down
 turning brown
 determined to grow again
 seeds carried for miles
 by hungry birds
 or blown by the wind
 landing in another place
 sheltered, protected
 Spring comes again
 flowers now in growth
 spreading more joy
 cascading colours
 beauty beyond scope
 in an empty space
 now filled with brightness
 Admired by passers-by.