Wildflower

As a wildflower, ye come to me,
When months of Winter’s discontent are drown,
By these long weeks of tears I shed for thee,
And hope is all but lost to earth unsound,

What’s this that lifts my darkened eyes to see?
Thy golden face aglow in midday sun,
With open arms, collecting my debris,
You carry me to Love whence we’d begun,

Thy wan-der-ing and inconsistent ways,
Release them, I beseech, and stay with me,
My love, be sure: that cure for this malaise,
For in my dreams, ye pledge to always be.

Alas, thy bless-ed warmth what graced my bed,
Oh woe… despite my endless love… has fled.

- Scott Alexander McKenzie