I'm a writer, a poet, a dreamer. Born and raised in New York City. I now live in Daytona Beach, Florida with my wonderful cat Sid.
Violet was as lovely,
as the flowers,
that carried the same name.
She had eyes that sparkled,
with glints of violet
and made his heart beat faster.
She was the one,
that had turned his head,
the love of his life.
Violet was like a butterfly,
that stayed for awhile
and then had to fly.
For some years now,
she came to stay,
together through the spring and summer,
they would play.
Then like the last butterfly of summer,
when the autumn winds began to blow,
she would turn to go,
until spring would come dancing,
through the meadows again.
He never questioned where she went,
never asked why she had to go,
he was just content,
that for two seasons,
she was his only love.
He sometimes wondered,
as he watched autumn leaves,
dance about blown by the wind
and watched silver snowflakes fall,
why it was so,
that they couldn’t speak to one another,
making the gray and dreary days,
go so much faster.
To hear her sweet voice,
it would have been like having her with him,
but it never happened
and he never demanded it.
It was like there was a door,
through which she came and went,
a door to a private world,
that she needed.
It had always been so,
that during the autumn and winter,
Violet had to be on her own
and he was left to dream,
of her sparkling eyes.
With eagerness he waited,
as the snows of winter melted
and finally spring,
came dancing through the meadows.
This time it was different,
this time the fates were cruel.
He heard about a bomb blast,
in a town not far away.
He never thought to think,
that this could affect him.
But in the morning he saw,
her face among the victims,
his lovely butterfly,
was senselessly taken away,
by a violent event,
that he could never understand.
He knew now that he would never know,
what kept her away from him,
but he knew that one day,
he would meet her again.
Until that day,
he was content to live with his memories,
closing his eyes at night he dreamt,
of them together in spring and summer,
of her sweet kisses
and always before him he saw –
© 2017 Gypsy Rose Lee
Gypsy Rose Lee (author) from Daytona Beach, Florida on May 03, 2017:
Sorry to disappoint Shauna. This just came as a sudden inspiration and it just sort of came together. At first I didn't know where the poem was really heading and then finally it just turned into remembering someone.
Shauna L Bowling from Central Florida on May 01, 2017:
I was really hoping this was about the petunias shown above, Rasma. So sad that it seems I was wrong.
Gypsy Rose Lee (author) from Daytona Beach, Florida on March 28, 2017:
Thank you Manatita.
Glad you enjoyed this Gwenneth
So true FlourishAnyway
Thank you Bill and sorry about the song. It happens when I get inspired a song comes to mind and it lingers on.
She left a lot of mystery behind MizBejabbers
Thank you Ruby
Thank you Ralph and yes, nothing must be taken for granted in life
Ralph Schwartz from Idaho Falls, Idaho on March 27, 2017:
beauty & tragedy so wonderfully woven together....Such a sweet sadness you've shared with this piece. Once again I'm reminded of just how precious human life is and we mustn't take anything for granted.
Ruby Jean Richert from Southern Illinois on March 27, 2017:
I must say that this is one more of your very best, sad but hauntingly beautiful!
Doris James MizBejabbers from Beautiful South on March 27, 2017:
Very beautiful, but sad. He was a patient man, but now the mystery surrounds Violet.
Bill Holland from Olympia, WA on March 27, 2017:
I saw the title and started singing "Lyin' Eyes" by the Eagles...now I'm stuck with that one all day long, thanks to your wonderful poetry. :)
FlourishAnyway from USA on March 26, 2017:
Poor Violet. At least she was loved.
Gwenneth Leane on March 26, 2017:
What a lovely imaginative poem. Your male character has been well portrayed as a patient, blindly loving man. I wondered if it was woman he pined after or was it a flower or another object in the form of a woman?
manatita44 from london on March 26, 2017:
Sweetness and sorrow combined. Yes, love flows that way sometimes. Poignant but beautiful.