Wild Blue Flowers

The girl played in the meadow Picking the wild blue flowers A pleasant and innocent child Enjoying many carefree hours She took the wild blue flowers As a gift for her dear momma They were a token of her love In this never ending summer Her beautiful big brown eyes Broad smile and long soft hair Gave a natural, unique beauty To this provincial girl so fair Elvie put the wild blue flowers In a jar of earthenware brown Beside her dear momma’s bed At their home in a province town When Elvie reached seventeen She thought it was such a pity To have seen little of the world And so she headed for the city She packed up her possessions Left behind the village so dull Determined that she was going To live her life to the very full Elvie would wear a small bikini In a seedy downtown go-go bar Upon the stage she would dance Thinking of her province, so far She would sell her shapely body And often a man in the audience Would take her out from the bar Back to a rented hotel residence Passing by a pawn shop window A painting caught her unaware It was familiar wild blue flowers In a jar of brown earthenware She entered, made the purchase Painted images of her life past And happier days, now gone by That had vanished all too fast She hung the painting on a wall In her shabby accommodation To remind her of summer days Full of laughter and recreation She would oft sit there and gaze At the blue flowers in full bloom Remember green lush meadows Instead of the city street gloom Occasionally she felt quite lonely Downcast, weary and depressed She’d insert a needle in her arm And take a ride on a silver crest One evening after she’d injected A syringe full of golden delight She had another fix far too soon On that dismal and fateful night The ambulance departed slowly Silent, it passed along the street No dying patient was laid inside No deadline did it need to meet No desperate, ebbing-away life Was there any attempt to save As this so very pretty occupant Was destined to be in the grave Her mother went into the room That her daughter used to rent She sat down on the empty bed Sobbing her pitifully sad lament She noticed the hanging painting Of wild blue flowers as she cried There was something so very odd They had all withered... and died