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I was a fashionable horticulturist, for elegant flowers keep eternally in style,
Like the saffron sun, coming and going, always causing dark skies to smile.

Plants were a jade preoccupation, long before glad days of my rosy career,
Filled with such mystery and magic, bringing rare surprises year after year.

My fascinated friends adored my garden, at the corner of Violet and Green,
Visiting an August of creamy asters, after a showy, July 'falling star' scene.

My oaken door was always open, to the fine family of my affectionate heart,
Like emerald nature's fields of frolic, welcoming right from the radiant start.

I lived in the house of turquoise thunder, in range of the ocean's huge roar,
In the scenic background of our lives, like an apricot rose, in haste ignored.

On the pretty street of my bluebird, there was always whistling and singing,
Like a tireless, renowned concert soloist, or tuneful bells, constantly ringing.

Narcissus neighbors visited noon and night, as nectar lures gold honeybees,
Bringing new recipes and revelations, like a cooling sky's sunset summaries.

Silvery moon sat in green treetops, during its sunshine, westward journeys,
And the cock crew redly each and every morning, in the days of few worries.

The fragrant heat was stifling all, like blooms in the arms of gold obsession,
Or sweet memories embossed upon each day, all glowing in fine succession.

I needed a shade tree for my front yard, so I had ordered a magnificent oak,
It would be planted while I was working, an early evening surprise to evoke.

But my surprise wasn't a good one at all, like a thunder and lightning jubilee,
Or emerald trees hidden in cherry mist, as the purple blooms smiled ruefully!

They'd planted the wrong tree out front, I soon found, to my dazed despair!
A red maple now stood in my walled yard, in the scarlet sunset smudged air.

Yet dazzling sunshine was pouring, upon the ruby red sunset of my Saturday,
As I gazed through vibrant, lacy leaves, at the sky's rich appearance latterly.

The layers of red captivated my eyes, for it is sometimes this way in nature,
Like the dancing belle, arrayed solely in one color, in the moonlight chamber.

And like green roses on the lovely lawn, charm the eye with green on green,
Or as bluebirds fly on bright, noonday skies, far above a cerulean lake scene.

I soon decided to keep my moonlight maple, so beautiful at daytime or night,
And also from season to lusty season, for nature always seems to get it right!
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