A Flower for Isabella

Frail Isabella stood amiss a mass
Of weeping, kindred souls-
They heaved and moaned,
The bereaved and alone.

She walked amid the mass
About the corner cobblestone
Who stood about with heads hung low
Akin in thoughts doth drifting off,
This mass so far from home.

The day aloft sails smoothly by
And dew frolics atop the grass
Beneath the blooming daffodils
That grace the sight hence
The sighing eyes of a mass
Crowded about the corner cobblestone.

Slow, so slow, the wind tickles
Strands of silk about her face
And it serves to reveal
A pair of beautiful bulbs
Glowing in candescent light.

She lay beneath this drooping tree
As the progression progresses by
Some small child wanders off
To find the sight that caught my eye,
Oh? I’d say she was nigh’ as old as me.

Away I stepped amiss the mass
Crowded about the corner cobblestone
As the day aloft sails smoothly by
A tantalizing step in time
Is trod about the funeral yard
And roots deep unto my soles
Granting light unto the steps
Of one so far from home.

They say life is but a posey,
Such a funny thought, isn’t it?
With wandering eyes
And drifting feet
Floating off ‘aneath the drooping tree
He lay to rest a head hung low
And was rather successful,
Let me tell you.

Slow, so slow, he drifted off to sleep
Aloft in thoughts ‘aneath the drooping tree
Sitting here right next to me
Until tender fingers that
Just may have been wafting words
Gently grabbed shaking hands
And cast away imposing dreams-
All this and more said the voice,

Hello, my name is Isabella.

Dark spots hug tight about
The doleful sighing eyes
The color of a flowing dress
That dances about the tips
Of dew topped grass
Beautiful in a broken right.

Wind gently tickles
The strands of silk about her face
To reveal a lying smile
That gently whispers;
Follow your heart.