Crimson Flowers

Tears sprinkled little earthen plot,

crying for husband they said had run off.

Young woman tended crimson flowers

dawn to dusk as red moon stared

at carmine earth in its burgundy light.

Rich mixture of red clay and iron

brought joy as she turned copper dirt,

muscles aching as she plunged spade,

mixing in white bone meal to fertilize.

Spirits lifted working the ground -

sad lonely girl, townspeople said,

gossiping about husband finding

blossom supplying sweet honey.

Budding lass just smiled to herself,

roses bloomed so lush and full,

sadness dissipated with her secret

husband’s bones enriched the earth.