Poetry - Blessed Bouquet

Purple crocus bursts through snow,
Reaching sunward, warm winds blow.
“Welcome, spring!”
It seems to sing.
Winter’s over—don’t you know?

Lavender lilacs, in a cluster,
Looking like a French maid’s duster;
Shaking around,
Petals surround,
Giving the yard a fragrant luster.

A blanket of violets covers the lawn,
Woven in webs before the dawn;
Sparkly dew,
A royal hue,
Provides a bed for a doe and fawn.

Twining morning glory vine,
Over lattice, trailing fine;
Fragile trumpets,
Shade our crumpets.
Having tea, we chat and dine.

Johnny jump-ups here and there,
Escape the garden if they dare.
Little faces,
Tiny spaces,
Happiness, without a care.

Purple clover, soft enough,
Tickling bunny’s powder puff.
Bees are buzzing,
Blossoms fuzzing,
Pom-poms filled with honey stuff.

Row on row, lupine blooms
Parading soldiers’ helmet plumes;
Attention formation,
Creator ovation;
Down in valleys, over dunes.

A burst of sparkle, fireweed,
Magenta flames, butterflies feed;
Fizzle gone,
Summer done,
Bouquets sing His praise, indeed.