Tag Archives: alone

2311. My secret admirer

It’s amazing. Every Thursday around three o’clock flowers are delivered to my house. Today is Friday, and yesterday the florist delivered a gorgeous bunch of red carnations. They were bright, bright red. I don’t know much about the meaning of flowers but secretly I was hoping that red carnations might stand for love.

It is so exciting to think that I have a secret admirer; in fact, more than that; someone who is infatuated by me. It could well be that. This business of flowers being delivered around three every Thursday has been going on for several months. It would cost a pretty penny.

I’ve wracked my brain as to the identity of this secret admirer. I even put a search online for “the meaning of flowers” as perhaps there is a clue in the variety of flowers that arrive. But most weeks I don’t even know the names of the flowers that are delivered. I know carnations and roses but that’s about itl. I can’t even spell some of the flower names you hear.

I was thrilled yesterday when the bunch of red carnations was delivered. I’ve never had red carnations before so I’m thinking that my secret lover might be getting more serious.

Excuse me. I’ve got to dash. Today is Friday – as I said. The florist is not open on weekends. I have to order next week’s flowers before the florist shuts. Perhaps next week I’ll get sunflowers! They are such a happy flower, and I don’t much like spending Christmas alone.

1922. Walking the city walls

(Hi – I’m still having a break from answering comments. A bit otherwise engaged! More in a day or two).

Timothy was exceedingly rich. He hadn’t simply become rich by inheriting riches from his father, although that was a good half of it. He had become doubly rich through hard work. He was a businessman of unbridled talent and success. Hence his riches.

He lived in a beautiful house with a spacious garden, and although he employed a professional gardener to come in once a week, he enjoyed gardening himself and did a great deal of it when time allowed.

He was also interested in breeding tropical fish, and hence he had a good number of significantly large aquariums in tasteful places around his house. Of course when we say “house” we mean it was more than a house; it was a mansion; a manor; a regal grange.

When Timothy hit forty he thought, “Why am I working so hard? I have all this money, so how much more do I need? I have many interests. Why don’t I pursue them? After all there’s enough money to live more than comfortably for the rest of my life and longer.”

So that’s what he did.

He abandoned work and took to travel! He went to Africa, Europe, Asia. He photographed so many things of history, so many scenes. When he needed a break he would come home and unwind in the garden. In the evenings he would view with pleasure the places he had been. Then it was back into travel!

It was while he was in Verona in Italy. He was walking the city walls, and was high up and passing the Basilica of St. Zeno. He stopped. He thought of something. He burst into tears.

It was all a waste of time; it was all meaningless, because he had no one to tell his adventures to. There was no one to share things with.

Poem 35: Dead flowers

(The poetic form selected for this month is the Standard Habbie aka Burns Stanza).

The flowers you left when I was ill
Lie dead upon my window sill.
The flowers are dead, not me, you dill!
I’m still alive!
I’ll throw them out, I think I will.
They won’t revive.

You left these flowers when you left me,
You said our love was dead, you see,
And you had wanted to be free
And not enchained.
I know that what will be will be
But little’s gained.

I hope you love the life you choose.
I cook a meal and watch the News.
I clean the house; don’t touch the booze.
If you were here
The things we hold I’d never lose.
Dead flowers don’t care.

To hear the poem read aloud click HERE.