A flower, celebrated amongst the beauty of nature Its delicate stem and vibrant petals Painted in lush tones of fire and plum Reach to the sun to welcome the coming day Its fragile body dances in soft breezes Oblivious to the world around it So simple, so pure, so beautiful A flower, truly a sight to behold To compare you, my beloved, to a flower? Ludicrous. An understatement in every sense of the word Does one compare a mountain to an ant hill? Are the ponds and streams even mentioned with the ocean? Then why my love compare you to a flower? If a season of growth can spawn such beauty If it takes only months to create such acclaim Then how much more inconceivable is my precious? Aged now 19 years and with the beauty of a thousand seasons To compare my beloved to a flower? An outrage. Burnt orange turns to crippled brown The brightest crimsons shrivel and fade The cold of winter, the sting of ice And a flower is nothing more than rusted earth. When cold winds whistle and trees turn bare You, my darling, still stand with all your splendor The cold air kissing your cheeks, adding a hint of sapphire Your eyes, always warm, strengthen to heat the room Your lips every bit as delicate as the warmer days before A petal’s beauty is only surface deep And any passerby can revel in all its beauty But you, my love, my sweet, only open up to me And it is there, inside, where your true beauty is revealed The rose’s sweet scent can’t match the sweetness of your heart And the brightest lily is dull beside your soul To compare my beloved to a flower? Unthinkable.