An old withered flower

An old withered flower
Swaying limply in the breeze
Had a little treasure
That it refused to leave


But at the first gentle wind
The treasure crashed to the ground
Unnoticed by all
Making not a sound


A hard cold bed of gravel
With little bits of straw
Was the only thing at the bottom
Ready to break the fall


But the little treasure did not give up
Pushing through the gravel
As though it was nothing
But it still had far to travel


Up up up to the surface
The little treasure pushed its way
Up tho the surface higher it climbed
Waiting for the day


It broke the surface
A wonderment to all
Ready to grow a
Stem so tall


A stem that would soon have
A flower with petals
With color so bright
It could win medals


Slowly over the spring
It grew with great measure
Waiting for the summer
To unlock it's treasure


Then one wonderful
Cool summer morning
Ocher colored petals
Spread without warning


At first they were dismissed
As they looked like crumpled paper
But soon they were unfurled
To show that they were greater


The loveliest flower of them all
Standing high through summer
In the fall lost its luster
as the petals lost their color


Soon it was an old withered flower
Swaying limply in the breeze
With a little treasure
That it refused to leave...


-ellentia