If the Gods,
He and She together,
So clothe each flower
In boldest hues
And splay the meadows
With such a palette,
I can surrender.
I will commission my life
Like a painting from an artist
Whose work resonates
In my deepest soul.
Make me a bloom
In Your vast Elysian Fields.
Here. I am Yours.

The poems are everywhere,
Not confined to special days.
I trip on them
As I look around.
I collect them
Like a bouquet of pretty smells.
Oh! This profound one
And aw! This sweet one.
A mountain of a poem,
A Mother poem,
A pink one.