Violet Crowley sat upon the cast iron loveseat <br />in the backyard arbor and bloomed <br />among the startling blue starburst of clematis <br />and the lipstick smears of bougainvillea, <br />prominent like crepe-paper swatches <br />or Joan Crawford's lips <br />in Technicolor. <br /> <br />Her dress, a willowy shift <br />of Egyptian cotton, also bloomed, <br />in chaotic confusion, <br />fluffy peony prints and meandering <br />lines suggesting, no, underscoring vines. <br />A sprig of bridal’s wreath <br />lay clutched in her hands <br />like a limp scepter. <br /> <br />There she sat as she awaited the arrival <br />of her suitor, Marvin Singleton, <br />who approached her gingerly, <br />wondering whether he should <br />pluck her or simply <br />watch her grow.<br /><br />Sonny Rainshine<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/rendezvous-12/
