The Flowers

I must go and water the flowers;
You should stay and tend to your weeds.
We’ll meet up, our daily chores done,
And drink lemonade in the summer breeze.

I must go and water the flowers,
Flowers being wont to wane and to wilt.
You should stay amidst blowing trees
And lie for a while at rest and at ease.

I must go and water the flowers -
Blowing, flailing, they bend and kneel -
All will need care and attention;
But you should remain, develop the field.

I must go and water the flowers,
Giving life to things that I touch,
As they need, some little, some much,
A flood, a measure, a tear or some such;

Where are you amidst my labours?
Out of sight, untouched by my aim;
Out to seed, asleep underneath;
How can I still hope to shoulder my pain?

I must go and water the flowers?
I would stay if you would return -
Like a bud, pushing though the frost,
You now could return and make good my loss.

I must go and water the flowers
And not fret that age leaves its rings.
As leaves fade forgotten to pale
On knees I will search for the hidden spring ...

I must go and water the flowers -
Flowers by you; in bloom at your feet.
Looking up, I see by the hour
That it is midday and you are replete.