Beauty is fresh and as lovely
As be the flowers in springtime,
As they wobble their heads gently in the breeze,
As they slowly climb their way to the stars,
For only to see the purple aplomb
Of all the angels ‘round the lilacs fair.
Centered there amongst the stars
Is a d’lightful hand of jubilant giants
Of molded mounds of marigolds,
Sitting round the echoless sounds
Of daisies pleasantly pleased with
Their effortless ease in growing
And being the forefront of things.
As all the flowers perk alike
To the stars that be aglow with light,
Sifting and seeding the sky with love,
And showing all the flowers that be:
Now, yes now comes the time to sing,
As each little flower learns to bring
Its radiance of love to all above,
And to shower about their fragrance fair.
In sharing with nature their heavenly air.