Flower Beds

Flower Beds

 (Flower Beds in Holland)

Who is that man walking between the white tulips
Carrying a rifle?  we will hunker down out of sight
Until he has passed.  he will probably disappear beyond
That cottage in a moment and then we can pull up close
To the tulips and watch their lips cup the bees.  you
Will say my lips are the color of the frosty pinks, and I
Will say your eyes match the dreamy blues.  someday,
I tell you, I will have a dress like those golden-hues and
You will have a shirt as delicious as the peach-blush.
You tell me that your mother grows beautiful flowers,
But she has never been able to cultivate a healthy
African violet, so I say, let’s go back into the house
And I pick one out for her.  you take her the plant.
And leave me contemplating the painting.  years
Of contemplating and many poems later
I study the Flower Beds in Holland and wonder
About the African violet in your mother’s house.