The amethyst paeans of hyacinth
crest with a gust of butterflies
on the scent of orange blossoms
cascading to earth like snow flakes.
Blood-red geraniums blazon Spring's birth
not with a pulsing blare,
but the soundless blush
of love's ardent swoon.
Placid jade fronds drape,
acquiescing to silent bees
emerging from blond snapdragons
as euphoria of being exudes
from the garden's breathless murmur.
I was thrilled and truly surprised since this only occurred once or twice in the past two years.
Copyright © Dale Gregory Cozart | Year Posted 2019
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