Love is a Bouquet

It took me a while to write this poem. Not to mention the time it took to look up all of these flowers that rhymed. Oy! But I'm happy with the way it turned out.

Love is a Bouquet

Love is a bouquet
filled with pretty, little, flowers.
Sometimes they’re lilies,
daffodils, or posies.
Other times they’re marigolds,
orchids, or roses.

Bought just before its prime,
blooming and blossoming
before the recipient’s eyes –
baby’s breath; breathing
cocks comb; combing
poppies; popping
and bird of paradise; paradizing.

Love is a bouquet
in full bloom.
Smelling so sweetly,
like a French perfume,
petals fanned out
in carnal symmetry:
beauty incarnate;
the epitome.

Love is a bouquet
three weeks old.
The flowers, all dead
and dieing.
Dried out, brown,
hard and stale.

Death’s selfish fingers
do impose –
even on roses,
posies, and marigolds.

Love is an empty vase.

La Nuit La Tour Eiffel Est Morte

The title for today's update is also the title of my French final. Translated it means, "The night the Eiffel Tower died". When I have the story completely finished (which will be by next Tuesday or else my final is late :/ )I'll upload it on here to share with you all.

Let's start with my life, because it's so incredibly interesting. My last semester at community college is winding down - and I'm glad it is. Two of the classes I'm in are a complete waste of my time and I've lost motivation to go to the third one. Luckily, or, not so luckily - depending how you look at it - my spring courses start at Eastern May 3rd. I think I'm a bit crazy, however. For some reason I think that I can take 12 credits over a 7 week period and work full time and not be drained of my will to live. Here's hoping I can do it. *crosses fingers* But, I am taking the summer semester off, thank goodness. I'm not taking it off just for my health, but also because I plan to travel again. Traveling is an itch which you scratch at and scratch at but it never goes away. The thought and need to travel is constantly roaming around my head. My friend and I will be heading to Wales, UK at the beginning of August. I am so excited. I'm so excited I feel like I should be typing all of this in caps, but I won't. We're going to take two one-week long 'intensive' courses in Greek. So far all of our preparations are going according to plan. And after that I plan to travel to New York to visit with Lola and Jokul! I'll be waiting until I turn 21 and then I'ma paint the big apple red!

There's not much going on in FF right now. I'm busy with school. Or at least I tell myself that. I dunno; the fascination it once held is just gone. I can't explain it.

Lemme find a poem I haven't shared with you yet... Here we go. The inspiration for this was going to Open at work around 3am.

At Three Ante Meridiem

My world is somnolent,
at three ante meridiem.

Bring forth the descent,
palliate, the regime.
Be myrmidon no longer,
recalcitrant, recalcitrant!
Sleep no longer – rebel, rebel!
Dream no longer, wake and delay,
Ring, ring, Macbeth – Sound thy death knell!
Rise, you quiescent, and dismay,

Your savior has come!
Your savior is gone!
Repent no more - await dawn.
My world is insomnolent,
At three ante meridiem.