The gnawing inspiration for this poem entered my consciousness while driving to work this past Monday. While the dawn's light shone brightly through my windshield, the idea for a comparison of love to an orchid, and lust to a weed came to me. I decided to pursue this line of thought for Poetry Thursday. I made a note (after I parked the car) in my moleskin of my thoughts. Enter the world of reality which bombarded my senses and sent all poetry muses into hiding. So the following is the first attempt to put something down to be worked out to better refinement at a later time.


MORNING CHAT

Good morning Calliope.
Glad to see you.
What was your delay?

Mourning you say?
For what, please say
What sadness there?

Goodbye to love,
Or was it lust,
Or only infatuation?

Tell me then....
Was it like an orchid?
Perhaps a weed run wild!

Love, a tender bloom
Requires gentle patience
To grow and flourish.

Lust, the weed, pops up
And seemingly feeds itself,
Satisfying no one else.

Nay, I mourn not for love, nor lust.
I mourn the death
Of epic poetry.