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…
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.