NaPoWriMo day thirteen and here’s poem number thirteen inspired by the plentiful red tulips my garden waiting for their petals to open to the sun. It’s called Red Tulip…
A floral film star
striking an ingénue pose
in the heady world of the spring garden.
At the start of a burgeoning career
petals are pulled in tight and demure.
The next day a pout appears
and the next a big, blousy smile
ruby lips flashed wide in the spotlight.
But as with every ageing beauty
stardom fades and character parts
become du jour,
a backdrop for the bluebells,
until tired and yellowing
it’s put out of its misery and replaced.