On the road I look through the window 

Not at the speeding power poles

Or the beautifully architectured homes 

But for you my favorite flower 

The bougainvillea 

You come in  many colours 

Pink is my favorite of you

In purple and pitch u blossom too

White, orange, beige, am spoilt for choice 

The bougainvillea 


You line the fences of hotels and homes 

You line the roads to towns and villages 

And grow in parks and forests

At the beach and in the mountains 

The bougainvillea 

I love a piece of you in  my hair 

And  a bunch in my hand

In the pot next to the TV stand

And outside my bedroom window 

The bougainvillea 


And when he comes

May he know that you are my favorite 

And plant a garden of you

That he may pluck a bunch for me always 

Then he may become a favourite 

My bougainvillea 



20 thoughts on “The bougainvillea 

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