Affections for you creep up slowly. Like a dream where the roller-coaster falls from its tracks then reappears on course without reason, so my heart explodes without release. Pressure builds and builds, frustratingly so.
To pluck the flower before it blossoms would kill the very beauty it promises. It breaks my heart to leave it there, exposed to the world. Someone may steal it; assuming it were mine at all. Someone may trample it, without me on guard.
When the wind blows my direction, I can sense it’s fragrance… a present reminder of distant travels calling. One midsummer I may return. Amongst the seasonal daisies, my flower will stand tall.
And now, fully grown, I will take you with me.