Poetry Collection Fall 2014: V. Ella

She is my rosy cherub, my bubblegum girl.
I dream of her tiny sprouting wings,
A creamy carnation, delicate and dainty;
I foresee her cherry lips and her flowering dress,
The petit cherry blossom everyone desires:
A cover girl, my little blushing doll.

She is my orchid bud, my little lavender lady.
I adorn her in my favorite pale amethyst dress,
A blushing lilac tea frock, embellished for princesses;
But she is resigned, forlorn with her beauty,
Flustered by the freedom  flowing near her fanny:
My bubblegum girl, why aren’t you happy?

She is my bluing iris, a phlox in an ocean of hydrangeas.
My heart twinges as she fusses in her own cool-hued skin,
A color struggle between pink and sky blue;
But she is a thistle at heart, resilient and sharp,
Strongly braced by the garden dowel that is me:
 The security that will never let my little periwinkle droop.