Taken For A Purpose

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Ouch! That hurts. I’m plucked from my dwelling.
Where am I taken? Perhaps I might know.
Towards my destiny; to fulfill my calling;
To embellish something then peacefully go.

In a wedding if I am the bouquet of the bride,
I’ll wish the couple an abiding wedded bliss.
In a funeral if I’m laid by the coffin’s side,
I’ll console the mourning for the dear they miss.

If given to the girl of his dreams on his knees,
I’ll be glad to have matched her blushing red cheeks.
If they siphon my essence, them, busy little bees,
I’ll hold still so that, they may function at ease.

If pinned in between the sleek strands of hair,
I’ll make her feel like she’s adorned with a crown.
If in the hands of a young lad, gentle and fair,
I’ll induce to present me to his mother in a gown.

If placed at the Altar of God for praise,
Nothing I would want than a blessed little while.
I’m a flower taken for a purpose in ways.
My life had I lived in a selfless style.

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Blossom Concelia William

Blossom Concelia William

"When I write, I feel astounding" ~Poettess