Wild Flowers
Larkspur blooming in the garden,
With violets in the dell;
Ask to beg some pardon,
Because their petals fell.
Roses climbing on the wall,
Reach up to find the light;
While lilies standing oh so tall,
Have throats that sing delight.
Columbine is reaching up,
Her colours sigh in vain;
And campanula lifts her cup,
To drink the falling rain.
The sunny shades of gold trefoil,
Are basking in the sun;
While hyacinths send scented oil,
To delight the nose of everyone.
Blue phlox lifts her lovely locks,
To sigh upon the breeze;
While poppies grow in scarlet flocks,
Their fires can but please.
Purple coneflower spreads her petals,
Around a browny head;
And hanging heads of soft bluebells,
Are like a blanket spread.
The goldenrod stands in the sun,
Bringing songbirds there to sing;
And asters bloom for everyone,
To beckon the butterfly wing.
The spreading spikes of bergamot,
Give honey to the bees;
And geraniums sit and think a thought,
Beneath the leafy trees.
Flowers come in many shades,
Their glory finds a place;
To soon the scented petal fades,
To soon the blooms erase.
Copyright © Elizabeth Wesley | Year Posted 2011
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