BY Margueritte Mokgaetji Pitjeng, South African Currently in Veszprém Hungry
Who said flowers can’t drown in their own beauty?
Is it not vanity and comparison which built perfect beauty?
I remember passing by Vogue seeking some hope
Eventually, it came, yet not in the way we sought after it
That’s how flowers drowned in their beauty
Waking up in the morning
Scared of my wandering sleepy eyes catching sight of their secrets
Koko never hid their demeanor from me
Although she seized coming cloaked by the Sun
So, I lifted my spirit to see flowers in the morning
Watching the sun lift her manicured fingers
With such majestic power and royalty upon these petals
She glazes them with utmost tranquility
And like an orchestrated rhythm, they heed to her touch
Revealing a golden smile full of wonder
Various colors, yet all the same
They only knew one thing
These flowers knew love and tranquility at first breath.