Off in the plains near Dublin

Lies a little somethin'

That is still considered a legend

One that is told

As heroes drink their mead that looks like resin

There is a lone flower up the hill

One that does not have petals

But one that has delicate dainty fingers that look completely still

Someone has approached it, filled with curiosity

And immediately jerked his hand away when it scratched

With animosity

People have looked at the flower with disgrace

Their eyes seeming to bulge as they stared

"How can this flower be filled with so much hate?"

But as I looked at this peculiar flower

I thought maybe it was misunderstood

I thought it was quite beautiful, it didn't deserve so many people to stare and glower

I felt I could relate to the poor old thing, as I had much of the same past

Filled with people who didn't understand

I felt if they could, they would only spit at me and pass

I walked towards the flower, afraid if it was going to injure me

But as I came closer

I touched it with my hand, and then it began to hold it tenderly

I suddenly felt a new feeling that I haven't felt before

I felt as if all the weight I held for so many years has been lifted

I even felt as loved as a mother with her newborn

It was then I saw a woman, who I noticed had those same dainty hands

As the flower I was holding

And she smiled with those pretty lips, as she said, "I must be the happiest woman on the land"

"As I found my one and only"

"Come with me, we will tread the sands"

"We will explore the oceans, the same that we wished we would see when we were children coloring with crayons"

"We will see the many forests, in the autumn where God let all his colors ran"

"Maybe we can even watch the night sky, with the many white eyes that blaze for you and me"

"Because our love will travel far, ever since I met you this flower may as well turn to a tree"

And we held both our hands and kissed

Blanketed by the early morning's cloudy mist

I never felt more loved than with something people only told in myths

But you are real, and I love you all the same

As I seal this poem with the morning shooting star, making a wish

That we'll be together

My heart even beats faster when I hear and say

Your name