He spoke of her beauty, and bringing it,
to it’s natural splendor,
by her potential qualities.
He found in his heart a loving need too handle,
as the neglected flower leaned,
what he saw,
others didn’t hold a candle.
He picked through her petals too remove past scars,
witnessing a guiltful wilt,
that admonished the star.
Yet, so rich were outer layers,
but all were void of understanding, too the inner, hidden petal’s,
in which her story holds .
His presence, listened,
watering her history,
as he accepted her every conviction, validated her voice,
her petals intention.
Told was a love searched, saddened by habitual, predictions.
The dusty soil beneath,
that held the roots,
to her buds,
were never proudly displayed,
put on a pedestal to be acknowledged,
repotted in mud .
His undivided attention,
to this flower,
as he resoiled, restored it’s richness, while proudly looming
Making her stand alone, as she took off blooming.
Shortly, after the past crept back,
too utilize more doom,
with the audacity inquiring,
if she’d grew.
As her petals stood fragrant, outstretched,
full of hope,
no longer taking on the past issues, nor having the room.
Poetry By Tamara Dorsey-Moore
Thinker on the Loose
Copyright © 2017