by Gay Williford
The young girl watched the flower woman from
the miniature window high in her villa’s tower.
It was her own secret room tiled in pale blues,
where fantasies and pipe dreams flourished.
Her focus now, the flower shop across the street,
which had long rows of fragrant, colorful blooms,
an abundance of bright yellow mums,
and a plethora of blushing red and pink roses.
Clustered around doorways were garlands of ivy
and dozens of many-shaded blossoms sparkled
from quaint earthen pots fronting the shop.
Lisa loved watching the changing colors there,
and was a bit jealous of the considerable beauty
the elderly lady was always surrounded by.
Lured by the shop’s aura of bright flora,
and needing to feel both useful and kind,
she headed over there with zeal and purpose
to ask if she could be of help.
Her request was welcomed, new friends acquired
and a fantastic loveliness shared!