Bright light upon the fiery rose,

For I mere sit in calm repose,

To see each bloom upon each stem,

And, savor each the crème de crème.

So now each flow-er blooming here,

The Tiger Lily, orange so dear,

Verbena spikes with purple hue,

With cries of, “Here, come hither you!”

Yes, painted daisies dancing there,

Just one by one; they call and stare,

And, whisper, “Why, oh why must we,”

“Be second class to Rosie, thee!”

The Rose she blushed must brighter red,

“I’m from a bush, and where I’m bred,”

“But, I’m a flower; like you the same-“

“We’ll band together; light a flame!”

“In bouquets”, said the Daisy fair,

“We’ll draw attention everywhere”,

“And, in that simply blend will we”,

“Draw joy and complete harmony!”

Peter Lowell Paulson

June 1, 2012