Airily she wanders here, seemingly without cheer
Directly she glances at you, as she draws near
Listen to her intently, but her voice you never hear
Leaving you to wonder, does she not speak for fear
Of that classic crime, being misunderstood

Our intentions may be all well and good
But serves simply to make a well-paved road
Every mention, she collects within a basket
And returns us fresh blooms to serve as goads
To remind us well, of that simple task

To always tell the truth, at the simple behest
Like a love-me-not blossom, all secrets confessed
Of a lover's true intentions, one can easily test
Without a confession, was she ever so blessed
To know what it was that her lover meant?

His intentions laid out from the first petals spent
From a white rose, foretelling his seductive intent
Mixed with a single lily, whose colored content
Shone brightly as the sun, but as for what it meant
Light as air, and with as much substance

Or did he give her a disdainful carnation?
Whose traitorous stripes offer no explanation
As to why he left suddenly, with no hesitation
Such a careless donation to such collection
With no mind to the heart's devastation

Did she answer his declaration of love in kind?
Only to realize, his affection rested only in her mind?
Was he ever so unkind, to give a yellow tulip, in return
Or with a snapdragon, did he confess his deceit,
Before he left her in a hasty retreat

Leaving her alone in the halls of Ithimia to wander
With only unanswerable questions to ponder
The meaning of his gifts, unseemingly final
Till mourning robed her voice of all its metal
And left her with the mystery of petals

If in this language, you would converse with her
Offer just these simple flowers, only three
A sunflower for your unending loyalty
And a wish, unspoken between you and her
A tulip, red with your heart's honesty
And a freesia, to pledge your faith to her

Penned by my hand on the 6th of Chronos, in the year 391 AF.