Within the warm yellowed pages
Of a hardcover Sherlock Holmes
In the family library,
Nestles a brownish
Sunflower

Mellowed, wiser, ageing gracefully
Each passing day.
Hues of space,
Tints of rusted nails
And a flavour of oaks

Defines its presence,
For it is more imaginary than real,
Wine glasses scooped out of
Surreal topographical
Features.

Smeetha, responding to Prompt 5