The idea worked long ago; it doesn’t now.
Tied to the tree is a paper flower,drooping in the rains,’unsung.’
Hoisting solitary above the wall
Bloomed the garden’s best
A white to fairy pink it turned
As the day progressed.
It caught the morning walker’s eye
Oh he knew the trick
He yanked a flower everyday
With his crafty stick.
I couldn’t go in hot pursuit
At that early hour
It wouldn’t bespeak well perhaps
To chase after a flower.
A paper napkin flower one day
To the stem I wound
A twin akin so it was
A semblance profound!
And next day of the very flower
I was bereft
Delighted I was as never before
No, never for a theft.
The man has changed his glasses for sure
For his unusual blunder
How we felt were we denied
Our dignified possession I wonder.
so sweet..,wonderful and unique presentation..I liked it. 
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