Ode To Dead Flowers

Dead Flowers, how you lay wilted and frozen
The sun has chosen, to hide behind the clouds.
Deceased of the Beauty, only the root, buld remains
Then next spring, you'll return, with vigor and gain.
I have no fear for the future, especially for you,
But now, today, I will miss the colors, the pretty morning prelude
The bright yellows and the reds, or blues of the petals-
Back into the ground, the sound dirt to settle.


That was my interesting attempt at spontaneous poetry.
But I was some daffadils overwhelmed by the snow, and even though they aren't human, they should get some recognition. They come back every year, without fail. That's more consistant than humans.

Some other things I have been processing. I was thinking of majoring in Psychology. I'm one who always wonders about why humans enjoy the things that they do, and so I've been thinking about that idea. I was also thinking of Nursing, because I'm impatient. I want to do the hands on stuff right away--I'm so sick of the bookwork. So I think that might be a good career choice. I'd like to take classes in Music, and Psychology and Nursing.
We'll see. The sun will shine brighter tomorrow. And God will provide. I have no fear. Except that I will be dehydrated. But that is my own fault.