My Friend

An orchid is a beautiful friend;

Though old and bleary, he still tries

To find the strength to open up his eyes again,

When sighs are all that's spoken for the length of time

He weary lies, through cold and snow,

Attended by a dutiful hand.

 

He kept his silent vigil through

Six sunless days of tears I’d go.  

So I would know he dreamt about the one

Who watched him while he slept.