In the quaint town of Silver Pines, Minnesota, there is a small flower shop. It was built when the town was founded and has supplied every wedding in the area for 46 years.

They have beautiful arrangements and flowers only grown in the native woods.

This is something a young man name James knows well.

Every first Monday of the month, he stops by to buy a blossom by the name of Silver Leaf.

It is o...

Every day I would show up at that same little shop,

It was to see her, the lady that owned the little shop,

And every day I would buy the same flower a little red rose,

And every day she gave the same response, you picked the best one yet,

My love for her blossomed like my red rose, it grew every day,

But this was my unrequited love, so I’ll just keep buying a rose from her the most precious ...

1954

the bell rang three chimes

a boy walked in, no older

than fourteen at best

he asked if we had

purple roses with their thorns

clipped off of the stems

they were for a girl

he said, he didn't want her to

cut her skin on thorns

1964

the boy, now the man

had gotten the same flower

every day for ten years

the same purple rose

with the point thorns clipped off

to protect his love

at one point i m...

I remember the day he walked in distinctly.

It was the fourth of February, a hazy and cold morning filled with fog and cars quietly rolling through rain puddles. What had already felt like a drowsy day was worsened when I came down with a sinus headache. I took some Tylenol and eagerly awaited the end of my shift. I worked at Butterfly Blooms, a name too peppy for its looks. The cheap store had ...

Monday. Six pm.

On the dot.

They run into the flower shop.

They get a singular sweet pea.

Tuesday. Six pm.

On the dot.

They run into the flower shop.

They get a singular sweet pea.

Wednesday. Six pm.

On the dot.

They run into the flower shop.

They get a singular sweet pea.

Thursday. Six pm.

On the dot.

They run into the flower shop.

They get a singular sweet pea.

Friday. Six pm. ...

A gloomy day, rain tapped our windows

I filled the roses in their pot

I watered the tulips, like i do a lot

I filled the white daisies, the flower of lows.

I waited at the counter, a small grin on my face

Watching the old man walk in, seemingly in the wrong place?

He seems distraught, yet that’s probably why

he’s in a black suit and tie.

He paid in cash, a small tear hit his coin

I avoided eye...

One rose

Everyday

One rose

Always the same

Always there

Who is he?

Who is it for?

This single rose intrigues me

Why not red?

Or yellow?

Why this white rose?

Why always?

Who is it for?

I’ll never know...

In a world where time moves forward, like grains of sand,

There unfolds a tale, mysterious and grand.

Everyday, like clockwork, this scene takes its place,

A character, enigmatic, weaves through cosmic space.

To a quaint little flower shop, they venture near,

A silent observer, with a heart full of sheer.

Their intentions hidden, as if locked in a chest,

An enigma worth deciphering, at its very b...

If life was meant for love

For you and me

It wouldn’t have ended this way

If flowers are said to grow

They are also said to die

If I hadn’t told you to go

It wouldn’t have ended this way

If this is life’s way of making me apologize

Then flowers you shall have

I’ll set them on your grave

I wish it didn’t end this way

I wish, that love

That hearts and minds

Could heal the pain

All I wish is that it...

Every day, I wake up at the stroke of 5

I open my eyes, and rise to greet the day

There is no joy or hate in my method

But a simple need to function and carry on

I allow movement through my limbs in the form of yoga

A quiet melody plays in the background

Bringing a splash of color to an otherwise grey canvas

The coffee maker bubbles

A warm cup of energy and desire awaits

The aroma has grown consu...