Pink Blossoms never looked so tempting to the eye.
Nor do they smell so appealing to the nose.
Velvet silky gracefulness,
Bowing in the gentle breeze.
Should I linger?
For the gossamer petals do not endure.
Their fragile iridescence succumbs to heavy blows.
Susceptible to freezing,
In a sheltered garden grows.
With warmth and light and radiance,
Their supple branches bend.
Healing, patient and joyous,
Their mystery portends.
Each is unique in shape, smell and hue.
How wonderful it is when they are sacrificed for you.
The droplets from the heavens nurture leaf and root,
While the nutrients from the soil conceive their resplendent fruit.
Candor, zest and flair reveal their true intent.
Intoxicating properties before their life is spent.
Luxurious sheen resounds,
Perfect in their sculpture, their symmetry abounds.
Sunlight’s golden rays glancing off the leaves,
Render growing shoots larger by the eve.
Whether in a meadow, wooded glen or by a brook,
Packaged in a Market Square or safely in a pot,
A flower’s vibrant color, rare and hard to match
Brings beauty to our meager day, and our attentions rapt.