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Trumpets of the Dawn
Ah, morning glory, such internal blush,
defy the penetration of brash sun.
Oh linger, trumpet of dawn in the dim
haze of mid-morning, do not be undone.
Oh, fairest of the fair, your milk white core
bleeds forth to bloom a brim of violet poise,
unembarrassed on the cheek of Sol's dawn.
Unfurled, you toy with youthful joy employed
upon the aged arch your vines entwine.
Rough cut the cedar arbor drips delight
as heart shaped leaves drowsy in the sun
weave between like fingered hands and unite.
Oh, bless the day that births such pert posies,
bless the royal hues of our Morning Glories.
Contest: Flower Song