Fleur de Matin
The name of a rose as everyone knows
Is unique to this bud's appellation;
Midst all of its thorns it proudly adorns
First place in the lover's constellation.
It is fantasy, to view the pansy
As a flower too weakly to survive;
Winter's summation, speaks of duration,
The most audacious violet alive.
It's honeysuckle, making knees buckle
With pungent aromatics on display;
To bee or mammal, perfume is normal
Delighting a passerby on the way.
These three of many color treats, uncanny
Demonstrations of beauty for the eye,
Lifting the downcast, joy's optic repast,
Blooming the spectrum's glory, 'ere they die.
copyright 1998, The Goober Tree Press, all rights reserved