Wild Blossoms

She sings to her lone self
A secret, naughty tune
That draws the forest's thousand ears
Like new meaning in lost runes

She hides in the darkest violets
and deep blues and satin reds
And bold fuchsias and tangy orange
And the blushing pink of newly weds

She sews on the hews with daydreams
And tall tales and stories old
With sunlight for her needle
And the stories for her thread

She waits for no hand to tell her
How soft her petals are
Nor a nose to sniff her wild scent
That is half dream, half yearning intent

She knows, soon it will come
His gaze that will stray to her clearing
Rise to her perch on blackened stone
And as a raindrop, touch her core

He will see the wild blossom
And hear her secret tune,
And he will know she is happy, simply to be
Content and alone and free