The Sunflower

The Sunflower prose poem

Photo by jeffreyc42

On the road side, many marvelous flowers are grown in a garden,
Like many other flowers, it has a bright open-
It turns towards sun and puffs up in pride,
With a reddish brown centre, it can thrive,
It has gold like yellow exterior,
It is a magnificent flower-
It is sunflower!

Looking at sun, it feels pleasure ,
It shines brightly enriched with gold colour,
Grass-hopper sits on it, bees expand their nectar on it,
It remains quiet, but feels “How sweet!”,
It flourishes under the care of a gardener.
With a great appeal to visitors-
It stretches out its petals-
Feels happy to be other flower’s envious.

But it feels sad –
when other flowers are plucked,
The gardener picks them out from the branches-
Mostly,they are to be decorated in bouquets,
Or may be offered to a prayer,
The sunflower trembles in a fear-
Plucking of flower means, death comes nearer-
Within a little hour, they turn into dry colour-
Artificially,they can survive for more few hours,
But, ultimately,they have to say” good-bye” with tears.

With lots of fun and cry-
The sunflower looks up into the sky-
Still it has lots of time to grow bigger,
With greater eager-
it wants to stay more-
up to its natural fall from tree’s core.

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Lekhika Sarkar

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I started my writing with some articles published in Indian Express, Pune, later on, my writings are published in,, short n, Forward Poetry Social, and Typotic.
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My hopes are like rain in desert Passed out so quickly somewhere, I am burnt to be dried in flames Tossed in fumes black as time Wreathed and mingled in blue, Life is not like a clear stream Nor its