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Pressed Flowers by Cassandra Connolly for Lewis and Irene Fabrics
Look what I have found! Oh look! Between the pages of a book.
Forgotten trinket, gently pressed, nestled amidst the leaves, safe and caressed.
Sleeping floral beauty, what do you dream? Of bright summer days and dancing beams?
Once vibrant bloom, now delicate and still. Awaiting longingly to again thrill.
Suspended in time, your colours dwell. Every different flower has a story to tell.
Each bloom, a chapter, a tale to share. Hidden amongst quiet pages to transport you there.
A thousand moments, recollections. Stirring emotions and old affections.
A whispered ode to days gone by. To carry you there in the blink of an eye.
Relive the summer sun, a haze of heat. Endless days of youth set on repeat.
Faded sweet fragrance on the breeze, dappled light and sunburnt knees.
Not just a flower, but a thought. Of days gone past and lessons taught.
Plucked with love, in a brief moment of pleasure, but to me an everlasting treasure.
Colours fade, but you remain. To remind me of the summer again.
