The young and shy florist
Engaged by my office
Knows well by intuition
How fond I am
Of the yellow flowers..!
So he endeavors to procure
A variety of fresh yellow roses,
Tulips, pansy, daffodils and lilies
In a hope to receive my appreciation
And so a carefully laid
Fresh bouquet on the centre table
Welcomes me every morning
When I reach my office.
His zeal makes me wonder
If the poor fellow will ever know
The ardent lover of ‘yellow’
Was once so fond of red roses
His heart still cries and craves for…
The only remnant of which remains
In his decades old private album
So carefully and fondly preserved
Those dried and lustreless petals
Of the full-bloomed red rose
Which remained undelivered ever
To the protagonist and friend
Whom it was intended for.
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