“I’m growing stronger than you know,” said she,
“You’re not,” said he, “and I know what is best.”
“I’m ready to break wildly free,” said she,
“I see, but you must wait, your patience test.”
“I’m eager to embrace my destiny,”
He countered, “You’re a wee one, let it rest.”
“My path leads skyward, bathed in clarity”
He sighed; she couldn’t, wouldn’t be repressed.
This lighthearted poem was prompted by the stark contrast between the focal point of this frame, a newly emerging stalk of lavender; against the out-of-focus backdrop of weathered and well-established oaks and elms.