Midnight Orchid

An orchid grew in the shade of a tall oak tree,
Petals delicate and vibrant,
Leaves as green as the luscious grass,
But as the day wore on,
And the oak tree cast a shadow,
The petals turned putrid,
Leaves rotted down to the stem,
Colours faded as the orchid turned to dust,
All alone in the dark of the night,
The poor little orchid never to be seen again,
The stem wilted,
The decaying petals closed,
The orchid a sham,
All alone in the night,
The moon shone bright,
The orchid blossomed alone,
As the wind played delicately with the blackening petals,
The orchid saw she was not alone,
While the moon shone,
The field awoke as sombre colours flittered everywhere,
A dark brightness glowed,
And it showed,
That the orchid once all on her own,
Had brightened the night with others as one,