AFRICAN VIOLET

Violet blossoms on the exotic plant
warmed the walls of the hotel room.
More than a thoughtful gesture, they were meant
to cast a spell and make love bloom.

Oh, Svengali, the master hypnotist!
Familiar words, a foreign tongue,
the food he brought, a secret lovers' tryst;
he captured my soul the way he sung.

Time passed as summer gave way to the fall;
minutes, hours, all were nonsense
to me. He taught me how to make them crawl
or fly or disappear. Distance

ceased to exist-all things were possible.
One day winter came. I just go
to work now; on my desk is a faithful
african friend. Both of us know

dreams can come true; we saw them manifest.
Carefully I water, nourish
and attend to this symbol of us, lest
it lose its life force. How I wish

to believe when it blossoms once again
his roaming heart will remember me.
These velvet leaves are what's left of heaven,
summer love, and eternity.

~ Broken Wings ~

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