Flowers in Bloom

In gardens where the sunbeams fall,

On either side of the river lie

In gorgeous garniture, the flowers blow,

Their radiances of dawn.

The Rose, an emblem of pride and rare.

The petals are soft as angels sigh,

Crimson blush and purest white.

In the morning light, it whispers love.

A daffodil will unfold.

In sagas of spring warmth,

Golden tinges, slim grace,

A flower in nature smiles, full of grace.

The bashful Violet - be not hot

But smelt of violets, fragrant still.

It blooms in blush, inhibitive .

A purple tone provided.

Carefully caressed Beauty

Brightly blossoming, petaled tulip-rich

It bathes in rooms of garden light

Glowing in hues of red and yellow,

Dance in the gentle light of spring.

The Lily, brave and white as snow.

Its grace beneath the moonlit branches,

In gardens where the shadows stray,

It neither blooms only in the dead of night,

The Sunflower is coronal and hot with gold.

But points back to where the sun is,

Their stem was strong, and the leaves so vast,

It stands as a testament to God.

The Iris of the stately stem,

In twilight colours all abloom,

A whisper of the evening sky,

In troubling purples red.

Every flower in its bloom stands.

Truly a work of art from nature's halls.

They rise and ebb as seasons go,

A cycle infinite, up and down.

On garden wide or meadow steep.

For they do bring a joy so kind,

A little piece of dignity, little thread of charm

A promise of spring to come.

Then let us all prize each closing bloom

Their ephemeral Beauty assumes

To teach us a song or two of the sweet by and by!

Even though it is short, it has been a gaping refuge.