Watering What Was Left To Grow

The faces of your fun flowers Optimistic, as I used to be Lift to bask in the streaming sun Unaware that I hang my head In the gray of overcast cloudy whys I tend to them As I had hoped to tend to you Giving daily drinks to squelch thirst Laboring on my hands and knees To procure a proper bed Their roots dive deep, now, Settling into the security of this Being their permanent placement To flourish To add a hint of loveliness To the simple home I made for us With kind and tender touch I water what was left to grow Awaiting the burst of color Knowing these to be your favorites Gathered then, by your loving hand Planted near the open door of our future Gaining strength to stand taller With passing time Our season, it was to be... Now I have the task Of weeding the bed That was to be our shared garden Although I long to see the bountiful blossoms I fear their appearance will break my heart