Flora
Oh lush flora, I watch its parade
Sashaying through woodland mead and glade;
How new blooms quaver…adorned with grace
That every trail rules this courtly place :
Lustrous the mural, the birdsongs swoon
A chant hailing rebirth of life's tune;
And peonies orange waft, awake
Their trimmings enthrall, how I would shake!
And never will this portrait be lost
When Maytime dreams are heavenly glossed!
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Written 05.22.2018
For Michelle Faulkner's Memories of May
Copyright © Nette Onclaud | Year Posted 2018
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