My Flowers Came Too Late

My Flowers Came Too Late

I was sixteen when
you first gave me flowers
’twas beautiful, to say the least
they were white roses,
so innocent, so pure,
I danced and swayed my way
as I paraded them over for all to see
their heavenly fragrance
invited everyone
to smell,
their long green stems
were as fragile as glass,
or so I thought
I was on cloud nine,
I was flying high
there were many more roses
and many more flowers
until there were none
I bought you flowers
white roses
they were beautiful too
with a heavenly scent as well
was it too late, or too soon
to give you flowers?
I don’t remember
as I remember
looking at you
gorgeous as always
in your perfect white
barong tagalog*
my tears
kept falling
as I dropped my last
white rose,
and said my last goodbye
where you would be laid
to eternal rest
goodbye was all that I could say

“I’m sorry, my flowers came too late, dad”


*Barong Tagalog -It is a common formal or semi-formal attire in Filipino culture, and is worn untucked over an undershirt with belted trousers and dress shoes

For Sadje’s WDY

Published by michnavs

Philippine-born Michelle Navajas, currently residing in Malaysia. Michelle authored the book “After – Rain Skies: A Million Stars” for PWW during their Million Stars campaign. Graduated with a Master of Education majoring in English in the Philippines, Michelle was a former college professor, teaching literature, speech & oral communication, creative writing, drama, and theatre arts. Michelle is active in her writing profession and works as a freelance creative writer. Michelle passionately blogs at, where you can find her prose and poetry on love, life, motherhood, and her advocacy on abuse and violence. A published author on Spillwords NYC Her poem “Again” is published on three platforms, on MEDIUM -an International Writers and Readers Space, AFRICA WRITERS CARAVAN, and at WOMAWORDS LITERARY PRESS. kindly go check the following links – –

51 thoughts on “My Flowers Came Too Late

      1. back in the 1990 s i bought this huge book about wm gladstone and it was so boring that i could not finish it. i watched my siamese cat eat my cactus instead. anyway wm liked to think he could save the trollops of london , when in fact, he could not. love your prose.

        Liked by 1 person

  1. Aw, such a beautiful tribute to your wonderful dad, SweetMich! This touched my heart and brought the tears. I’m sure he didn’t need flowers from you…he loved you, was proud of you, and just always wanted you to be safe and happy. 🙂 YOU were a bazillion beautiful flowers in his life!!! 🙂
    (((HUGS))) 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Wow! What an awesome piece, Dear! You may think that your flowers came too late but I can assure you that you were the flower that you Dad loved most and enjoyed every time he spent time with you or gave you a big hug!! Revel in the memories of your time together as the gift of flowers to each other, My Dear!
    xoxox 😘💕🎁🎁🌹🌹✨


  3. That’s a beautiful poem, Mich. It’s brought tears to my eyes. With the distance of time, memories become sweetly sad and that’s what you’ve let me feel today about my own father.


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