Flair
It is said
that ‘many a flower blushes unseen.’
These tender buds quietly bloom,
smile bright but timid.
Ah, but
these words do not apply to all blossoms
For some, like the red-topped
wildflower, life is a dare.
Yes, yes,
this natural work of art does not shy away
But steps out of line with a mischievous
glint in her eye,
Unseen is
not for her. She laughs out loud, drinks her beer cold.
With radio playing, she dances, an
exploding smile under red hair.
Oh, her
fragrance is sweet, her love exuberant and real.
Blue jeans, leather and walking
shoes completes her bold bloom.
Ay, yes, a
dynamic joyful soul she is, with a crazy hat or two.
She is a wildflower, blooming,
vibrant, an everlasting firework of flair.
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