Quietly the hydrangeas waits for you,while one grows more intense for you.
When the bloom becomes a crowd, it makes sense for two to stand against.
Like a crowd going nowhere, the flowers still push forward.
A pocketful of flower blooms, I have contained.
Each one knows not, that they are connected, fighting for the top.
Even in the crowed room,two will find each others light.
I spent so much time with you, until I was free of confusion.
Little flower, at our feet, we wander past.Wait, take a look, please forget me not.
What a riot, of colours, all shouting and tight, togther.
With so much noise coming to my ear, one will have to shout to hear.
Each, with much to say, thesefriends will share the stage.
