beauty and mystery
expressed
in petaled multiplicity
Pure And Lovely
Buttercup
your magic glow
shining love
on the chin of the world
The Petaled Sun
I imagine
the seeding dandelion
is your moon
Red Begonia
if fire
was a flower
it would be you
Allium Here And Gone
your delicate intricacies
did not depart
with your bloom
Variance Of Variegation
painted like
a picket fence
anomaly of white
Within The Spiral
be like a bee
close enough to see
pink transformed to red
Memories Amass
like days
in a life
recollections accrue
forget-me-not
Touch Of Pink
the barest blush
on petals
an exclamation
of the stigma
To Be What You Desire
the magic of these mushrooms
as they fruit themselves
into flowers
How Beauty Lasts
each tiny part
opens in its own time
a progress of perfection
Like The Sun Itself
shining light
banishing doubt
declaring joy
Yellow Roses
in celebration of ordinary days
picked from your mother’s yard
you would bring them often
and for no particular reason
Declared
so many hearts
on the garden’s sleeves
love abounds for everything
We Adore Her
primrose
the first rose
our maiden of May
Pink
pink rises
from the pale
until completely self saturated
Likeness
red feathered tulip
the cardinal’s
favorite flower
Like A Touch Of Whimsey
lovely lichen
delicately decorating
the understory
Alluring
what marvelous lashes
on the pansy’s bright eye
Freeze Frame
early morning frost
suspends magnolia’s bloom
what beautiful bravery
Ready To Fight The Weather
clenched tight like a fist
until elements allow
a delicate unfurling
Penmanship
in cursive and in print
rain writes her story
on ice and snow
Early Spring Abstracted
blue skies
and leaves
finding new forms
Purchased Sunshine
so necessary
the simple happiness
daisies give
Deciding To Leave
over time tiny shifts
expand space
and oblige separation
March Madness
some
of
everything
Borrowed Wisdom
I stopped and
leaned against a tree
to learn how to be
Mud Season
melt and freeze
the ground softens
in fits and starts
Blow Down
the wind delivered
a lichen corsage
to an icy ‘spring fling’
Awaiting Spring
this fringe of cold
the beauty before
the beauty of leaves