flower of perfection

flower of perfection by c e ayr

Click here to hear the poet read his words:

the flower of perfection

achingly
gently
slipping lightly
almost tracelessly
through
the garden of France
leaving only
in the wistful hearts
who sense
an ephemeral passing
a whisper
of love
a flutter
of desire
a sensation
of passion
a tear drop
of longing
and an eternity
of wonder
is the fate
the flight
the joy
and the tragedy
of the butterfly
as it seeks
the impossibility
of the flower
of perfection
doomed
to wander
forever alone
in endless
heartache

Unknown's avatar

About ceayr

A Scot who has discovered peace in a small town he calls Medville on the Côte Vermeille, C.E. Ayr has spent a large part of his life in the West of Scotland and a large part elsewhere. His first job was selling programmes at his local football club and he has since tried 73 other career paths, the longest being in IT, with varying degrees of success. He is somewhat nomadic, fairly irresponsible and, according to his darling daughter, a bit random. So, nobody’s perfect.
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3 Responses to flower of perfection

  1. Prior...'s avatar Prior... says:

    Enjoyed the audio and the word flowed but wow – such a sad ending unfolded

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