The first time she walked in through the gates, it was them who welcomed her. She felt loved when they had strewn a red carpet for her. And there budded their friendship. She was on her flight of dreams. All she had, her wings. And this new acquaintance.
A life away from all the hustle that had surrounded her till then. It was a fresh breath of air. She had always wanted to find contentment within herself. Which she could never unearth in the loud city life. Here, it was different. The breeze hummed melodies in her ears. Birds sang for her.
She found heaven under the Bougainville trees that grew everywhere around her. And they, were her friends. They bloomed for her. Each branch smiled at her. Leaves whispered to her. Petals fell for her.
The letters she wrote brimmed with her love for the flame of forest. Now, flame of her life. She wished they would bloom for her forever. And they did. Bloom. Love.
She woke up to little birds singing by her window. Beads of dew still glowing on green. From behind the horizon the sun would slowly rise up. Blushing with envy. Green with jealousy. And the flowers bloomed in their majestic tinge. A bright orange even the sun envied.
In the scorching heat of noons, they kissed her with their cool shade. At nights, the star bedded sky sang lullabies. And they all slept. She. The petals.
Springs and falls went by. Beyond seasons their love only grew.
An evening, but she went and came back never. The petals waited to feel her feet crush them. The leaves waited to whisper secrets to her. But all that was left back were a few crimson notes she had tucked inside a hole in a tree trunk. Letters with orange petals glued to it. Letters she had never send. Letters she treasured. With the part of her heart she had left, they waited.
The glued petals dried. The crimson notes yellowed. Her words, now faint. But the Bougainvilleas still waited. Spreading out the blossom carpet. They longed for her. Her love.