Showing posts from February, 2019


When the flowers first bloomed,
Ecstatic, I was.
But, impatient to catch the fruit,
The fruit of hard work.

Two days passed,
Brown withered flowers,
Dropping off the stem,
Into the wet soil.
There were no promises made,
Yet expectations there were,
Of the fruits of labor.

Maybe, the flowers had wanted to see me smile.