So here I am thinking of a piece of work about an empty vase which has inspired me to write, but given
me nothing to say lol!! Please bear with me on this one...
It held them all so perfectly,
It once brought comfort to someone gravely ill,
To make them smile and hold a thought,
Cherishing final flowers someone had bought.
It was a glass hand bearing flowers,
A beautiful sight in someones last hours,
A sea of purple, blue in a bouquet,
A lasting promise of 'we wont forget.'
It stood so firm and silently,
Holding daisies, and one or two lilies,
Everyone commented on the beauty of the display,
Not noticing how slowly they began to fade away.
Day by day they grew frail and weak,
Though the stunning colours continued to speak,
As passers by stopped to admire,
The flowers continued to slowly tire.
And one day their fight was done,
The flowers fought but fate had won,
Leaving behind the empty vase,
Which nobody stops to admire as they pass.
For the colourful display which once stood proud,
The one whose presence silently sang out loud,
The eye catching piece had one day gone,
And now an empty vase impressed no one.
Until next time when it is refilled,
And once again passers by are thrilled,
I guess nobody sees past the rainbow sight,
To the vase that holds them so firm and bright.
Vicki Wroe, 24 (C)
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