I want to tie flowers in your hair
like the childish little girl I was
in the spring all those years ago

I searched for clovers and ladybugs and butterflies
and wrote names in the white clouds above my head
breathing in hope before the summer storms came

today I would make you a crown
of buttercups and daisies, calling
“are you in love
Ophelia, don’t you know
you’re beautiful”

but a child’s boldness is what I lack
under this grey winter sky
no words for my affection reach my lips
so I can only tug on your hair
and run

pretending I can fly from here.