Pink Carnations

I weave Carnations in my hat
A year or two they take me back
When golden olden days were new
They seem like nothing, at first glance
Humble, stiff, devoid of dance
Smell them twice
Voila, it’s spice
Austere and folksy, Vanilla brew
Unlike a rose, though sweet are you
When petals fall, so lightly strewn
Yet fade within one midnight star
Those pink Carnations loved me more
They chose to stay intact and sure
A tad bit longer lived in lore
When I was young and so demure
I think I like them much, much more

kg’14

Leave a Reply