I've always loved yellow daffodils blooming at Easter time,
picked and presented to my Mom, but the pleasure was all mine!
Black-eyed Susan's stole my heart with sturdy golden faces,
not in pristine manicured beds, but the edge of wild places,
like Grandpa's field where Queen Anne laced her intricate blooming doilies,
freely waltzing with the breeze at a ball of floral royalty.
Many the daisy picked and stripped of petals one by one,
"he loves me, he loves me not", school girl playground fun
.Dandelions gone to seed, buttercups and clovers,
stir the childhood heart of wildflower lovers.
Lilac bushes swaying in a warm summer breeze,
none filled our home with springtime more fragrantly than these.
Tall Iris' that seemed to nod "good day" as I would pass
poking their strong stalks up through the soft green grass.
Lily of the Valley, like lovely ladies bend,
in a "secret" spot of a wooded "fairyland".
Along the edge of cornfields, meant to "scare" the crows,
sunflowers bow their mighty blooms to the corn rows.
Brightly colored pansies firmly make a stand
to offer hope that winter's days are numbered in this land!
Gardenia in the morning, Jasmine in moonlight,
scent the air around them with a perfumed delight.
Roses on a bush or vine, or in a crystal vase,
favorites however they are, perfect everyplace!
Flowers convey a message all can understand,
silently testifying to the Artist's hand.
pj
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