The orchids have died
Withered, dried
No care could have saved them
Even if we tried

They were tended and grown
By a delicate hand
Once only a sprig
In a faraway land

Flown to the realm
Of the folk who have all
And believe to command
With immunity to fall

But when blue birds are silenced
And speech of freedom is lost
The beauty of Phaleonopsis
Cannot meet the cost

So a forest of colour
Has grown out of sight
And with the death of honour
Seems forlorn at onset of night

But behold, there is light!
When those of lesser valour
Fall and expose their hollow plight
All eyes opened by the horror
That can no more be denied…

Now the orchids have died
Water stopped flowing and they dried
None alone could ever save them
And survive this ferocious pesticide

But it is not too late
Remember how once before began
Don’t press repeat, turn fate
Of this forest of colour
Redeem our honour
See the exotic flowers blossom
Anew. As now we fathom
And now we have tried

© 2014, Myriam Heffels