If I were a flower, I would be a violet

"I am the violet.

I AM THE VIOLET 

I am the violet. I wear my heart on my sleeve, 

Heart shaped scalloped leaves." 

When Paris was first mentioned I thought I'd love to go to Paris, but I'm stuck in the garden. 

A Utah garden,

Surrounded by bees,

And other "superior" flowers. 

I bloomed on my blog and in my journal,

My very own garden.

I bloomed: 

For all the other slowly seemingly less superior flowers,

For the bees, 

For the florists, 

For MYSELF.

A2 Creative Writing has got me thinking about how residing in the garden isn't too bad, 

After all Paris has gardens too.  

Thinking about how I could set my roots down in Cimetière du père Lachaise

Or how I would flourish in the summer sun at Parc des Buttes Chaumont

Or how Jardin du Luxwmbourg, "Among many parks and gardens of Paris, is certainly one of the favorite green places of the Parisians, students, and tourists." 

At least that's what the travel site told me....

I'd like to pretend I'm a Parisian, but I'm not sure if I've even been to Paris yet 

And if I ever get to Paris I wonder if the people I assume tourists assume that of me. 

Please hear my plea, I am trying to be a Parisian and I will get there one day, 

But for now I am a frail flower, I am the violet, I am violet luster. 

"While the bees may ignore me, 

The florists will always appreciate my frailty."

(Be a florist, not a tourist. Truly fall in love with Paris)

Through the past months I've learned, 

You aren't bees,

You aren't tourists, 

You are all the florists and fantastic flowers, 

Learning what it means to be a Parisian. 

I am violet luster. I am Hannah Staker. 

Welcome to my garden.