can you picture me with a flower in my hand

let me guess
you said yes

don’t do that again
don’t rush to me that is
with your answer as of yet
you first must listen to my story-let

i had convinced myself not too long ago
that i had enough of those nature’s prides
killer thorns adamant that they must stab my left
‘wait through this last time until the storm subsides’
was what i uttered the soul for it felt bereft
adding ‘you can then find peace in letting it go’
fate however told me
that blossom was not my last to woo

then came along a spectacular bloom
asking the hurt in me to play along
i recognized its incredible colors
though it was from a distance
i had seen it before
its incense was nothing to ignore

i was so afraid
i’m afraid i still am
as they were and are ever so real
and stampede all over the tiny me 
all those agonizing fears
fears of all kinds fears galore

but i am ready to dare to get to know it more

having blossomed on the gentlest soil no doubt 
petal by petal this flower came to me 
each was donning a soothing scent
it sprinkled utter sweetness into my soul
as if to tip-toe
through my window
it enticed me with a dance
so enchanting that i now think
i must have fallen into a trance

“Under the Tuscan Sun”
an all-time favorite of mine
i must share with you its trademark line



i just changed my mind

watch it one day
you too may then say
what the older woman claimed
about the title of my poem today . . .

© hülya n. yılmaz, 5.20.2017


Filed under Reflections

2 responses to “Ladybugs

  1. as per the title, yes i can . . . beautiful write . . . .


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