What bouquet is lovelier than thee?
You grow amongst each other,
a compliment of colors,
a fragrance of the heavens.
Bright and sturdy,
standing after storm
of rain and wind.
Still, you catch my eye;
your color that of ruby lips
Caught between
kiss and sigh.
And tall above the rest,
the sentinels.
Tigers, tho nary a stripe
to find,
but spots instead.
A den of orange
run wild.
Brazen, brash, and full of mirth.
And sweet, the simple phlox;
no bashful color here.
You call to me
on humid air.
Your perfume wafts
across the evening
breezes....ah!
Lush and so familiar.
Shyly in the depth of green,
a soft and gentle blossom grows.
Does not compete, this lovely stem;
it's elegance and eloquence
is quiet.
And you! Unbashful relative!
A can-can swirl of ruddied warmth!
No sun too bright for you;
no passive glance my friend.
You are the diva.
Yes, we know!
And thus my walk complete,
I hold within my heart
each petal.
The magic of the Greater Gardener;
the beauty of His generosity.
I have not made this plot.
I hold no claim to plant nor soil.
This joy, this abundance,
this overflowing ground
indeed,
is His.
I am the servant and
the steward.
Pax.....
