Dearest Lilly,
As posies of Agapanthis, tied eternal and given in shade of Orleander, I beseech thee, a kiss. With a moment given to instance amidst columbine, I dream alike but wake the same.
In respect of amity, ardent to overture and fervent of gallantry, you burn with ardour. Ebullient, yet tender with mirth, you are lost to the pursuit of that which suits.
Gentile in name, refined with splendour, as born to propriety and words. To court as noble but play as less, in heart with passion for love.
With gravity, I am fallen, swept to the felicity of seduction and helpless to your will. But the intoxication of your enchantment wanes before the lucidity of truth.
Would duration bring such instance that beyond the bounds of position, we may meet without prejudice and equal? Or shall I always be servant?
In antipathy of absence, as with absinth would torment grow, I am lost to your seduction and reckless before charm. With enmity I gaze that which grace would deny, impassioned by devotion and drawn.
But am I for delectation or given to endearment – amusement for pleasure or love? In tragedy of farce, ever the harlequin, consumed by temptation and lost.
With trepidation, reluctant of diversion, I defy venture of that which must be. In sacrifice of self and before the attention of ruin, I renounce my love.
The service of man may be forged in duty, but the service of freedom, more so. I shall serve the king, and with shilling pressed, release you to a dying breath, for tomorrow I sail for France.
Forever,
Your Servant
avbarber 
Is not the utterance of a servant just the purity of love? That you would feel less equal and burdened by such sentiment is the wanted destruction of my heart. Go if you must ,but not riddled with illusion – I am your servant, your equal, your grail – With all three I am the essence of your love.
Such conflict Pan – written with beauty, heart and soul!
Wendy xx.
I feel we have just managed a perfect rehearsal for our collaboration Wendy, thank you for your wonderful and fitting prose – I really want to get started with this new project now!
My thoughts drift to a time of chivalry where a knight’s elegant words could woo his fair lady into his arms or wait patiently for his return whenever I read your inspired works of prose.
Thank you Anne, I am glad that you find such meaning in my words and really hope that you will go on doing so into the future 🙂 As always your kindness is much appreciated
Your letter starts so impassionate and by the end you renounce your love. You shouldn’t do this Knight Andrew. I’m sure your Lady Lilly is good for you 🙂 And by the way, I enjoyed the read as always and learnt many new words 😉
I am always glad to bring you some new words Manuela and thank you for your kind comments. In this essay there are a number of different ways to read the story, each with a different start, middle and end. The key is in the flowers and in the questions asked 🙂
You go through a series of different emotions. yet still feel the sense of hope.Enchanting to read,even though you thought it to short it still grabs you and entices you in x
Hi Nikki, thank you for your wonderful comment, I can see that you gave great thought to the essay and am glad that you liked it. I think with regard to its length, my heart felt it long enough, but my head thought otherwise – my heart won! 😀
Okay Mr Barber, here it goes for what its worth. I will give you my original before I found out you had a different flower key. It doesn’t change it too much and it really is the overall basic first impression.
Do you get the feeling I am stalling 😉
I see a young man is in love with a woman of a higher class or station in life. He wants them to be equals but that can never happen. He know their love would be folly. He watches her in a garden as she walks with others . She isn’t like the others. She sees him. She sees him as a man not just a servant
She is naive and ignorant to the consequences of such a pairing. She wants him. He is intoxicated by such passion, but he knows all too well the consequences if their tryst were to be uncovered.
He is pulled to her by passion, but everything is tempered by the reality of their circumstance.
He dreams one day maybe there may be a chance they could be together in truth.
Envy and resentment pull at his feelings. Fraying them. He sees her station and what it affords and how he is treated.. He wonders if he is just another of her playthings. Something she will cast aside when she gets bored.
He finds his salvation by leaving her service for that of the King. In his service to country he funds freedom from her and his servitude in her home.
As always you are pretty damn close – well actually, you are spot on accurate as everything you have said is correct. When he asks the question, am I just a thing of amusement or is this real? it isn’t really answered – and he then goes on to say he leaves to prevent the risk of scandal and we are left with some uncertainty. Your view really takes that into account and the rest was straight as a die. In reality this story runs deeper and there will be much more to come 🙂 Your perception has again done you justice, and I thank you for taking the time 🙂
Another piece of wondrous prose Andrew—your beautiful words create artistry we appear to have lost in the hurly burly of today’s world. Thank you for staging the enchanting dance that words can be—-should be—-if only we would stop to notice their samite robes.
Caroline
Thank you for your wonderful and kind comments Caroline, your eloquence and encouragement is much appreciated!
I am agapanthis; the posy my temporary seduction.
I meet the defiant endearment in words, consumed by a fervant recklessness
————-I sail away.
X
I have so come to love that flowers name – some words just seem to have been created for poetry! Thank you for your comment Marina, I always look forward to this, as your approach of using and rearranging the words I have used is just simply wonderful!
Thank you for the opportunity to dally with the words, Andrew, although I suppose some poets would find it a cheeky annoyance! 🙂 Agapanthus grow in ABUNDANCE in NZ—-often needing to be weeded for their virulent spread. They come from South Africa, so I was told, and some Kiwis consider them a non-native invader! Gone for me is the image of a single, potted bulb as the perfect gift for Aunt Florrie! I love the colourful lilac and white splash they create as driveway borders in fair Aotearoa—and yes–the word certainly wraps poetically around the poet’s quill. 🙂
Never stop in your dally of my words Marina – you are most welcome to them 🙂
Thank you, Andrew–you are a kind and generous artist—as well as a bold Knight! 🙂
Humbled by the grace of your words am I. You managed to evoke all of the senses of imagination. With thanks for your gift. Blessings, Merliz
Thank you, that is so very kind – I hope you will enjoy the rest of my work 🙂