While he was busy admiring the buds, I sat beside — admiring him. He smiled at the flowers’ gentle bloom, While my heart bloomed quietly within. He spoke of beauty, calm and mild, I just watched, completely beguiled. He said, “Flowers bring happiness,” with grace— But mine bloomed only seeing his face. Around us, petals danced with air, But his presence outshined all that’s fair. The garden blushed beneath the sun, Yet his warmth outshone every one. They say it’s ordinary — to love the flower, Not the thorns that guard its power. If he was a thorn, I’d choose him over petals, I’d hold the pain because his love settles. Let them sting, let them stay, For pain from him feels sweet, some way. Hold me close, even if I bleed— For he’s the love my soul will need.