Brides

A growth emerged from trodden path,
and so as not to dismember it under foot
or by rotating mower blade,
I moved it closer to the inner fence.

And there it stood and there it grew,
and there I saw it bloom one day,
as I walked down to the shed, again,
to retrieve yet another tool.

I paused to ask the plant her name
She said to me, "My name is Brides,
for I am virgins,
and all my petals are perfumed."

It's been a time since I, the gardener,
walked thereabouts, and from my nap of earth of now,
I wonder if said encounter ever happen,
or was it just a wishful thinking?