“Hey, I don’t think I’ve met you yet,”
was what I said
when we first met.

I remember trekking across hills,
the wind still gives me chills,
Creeping through touch-me-nots.
I’d send you violet tulips
in hope for a response.

Red to yellow, some carnations went,
The apples even blossomed
under baby’s breath.
Yarrow lovers in the house of Kent,
shot up like sunflowers in Ghent

Still, I wouldn’t change a thing
Why fix it when it’s not broken?
After all, I want you happy,
whether that’s with or without me

Written by Lucas