Once upon a time in the forest, there she was
a tattered common violet rooted and sweet,
resting on a tiny bed of crushed coppery leaves
drinking Crème de Violette from a snail shell
on a warm and lovely spring day
Peaceful and assuredly – she was
a wise, old blossom. One purple petal nearly
chewed off by some long-forgotten pest. Still
pliable and pretty – as she swayed to the wispy
rhythms of the heady breeze. Thankful for
the rains that cracked open her seed
Thankful to be far from the garden party ruckus
and its vile goings on in full swing, where wagging
tongues singe spirits minus the movement
of lips. Thankfully beaming in her solitary bliss, until
a damsel came into view,
a misfitted escapee no less, with silver flowing hair
on a head hanging low dressed in white flowy
cotton and worn-out boots. A ragged branch –
her only friend. Viola thankful, again,
now for kismet and this kindred soul
“Hey”, she burst out! “Look how cute I am
rugged and sweet, just as you are, my dear friend.
Will you take a photo of me?” I may no longer
be here in a week or two and I don’t want to leave
this earth alone with no trace of me to show.”
With a giggle and click, the damsel obliged.
The two then shared a smile and a triumphant sip.
“You did for me, and I did for you”, viola sang out.
“I’m not a shrinking violet per se, but I do have my ways.”
And with that she vanished away, as the damsel
shrunk down to the size of a pollen grain,
belonging steadfast to the wind – free from the feeling
of not fitting in, and sweet viola now immortalized
up in the cloud somewhere – ubiquitous and happy
and now thankful for that, as well.
Vivi Delsole
I have a bachelor’s degree in horticulture and work as a technical writer specializing in cancer cell therapy products. I’ve been taking creative writing classes at The Writers Studio for over a year. Two of my poems have recently been accepted by Smoky Blue Literary and Arts Magazine.