Flowerworks

Come,
make time,
for a lily walk,
a flowerful stroll,
to celebrate a celebration.

A woman’s joy,
whole-hearted, attending beauty,
touches those witnessing such enjoyment.
A thousand blooms visiting so briefly
en-joy-ment’s intensified—Carpe diem—
that’s all they’re allowed.

Each day the flowerlover greets new arrivals.
Some perk as she nears.
(I swear)
“Look at this one.”
“That one!”
“Here.”
“Over there!”
“Didja see those?”
“These ‘popped’ this morning.”
Holding each gently, welcoming,
tenderly searching lilyfaces,
neglecting few.

“You have to see this one”

Or, (Monet would like this) you can sit.
There’re places for sitting, and having a view,
green grounds, enlightened, by colors around.
Sitting and seeing, not only the blues…
there’s peachy and rose-ish,
some reds as can be;
passionate purples, and some,
not quite white;
sunsetting oranges, elegant pinks, and
sunshining yellows, sunlit, and sun bright.

Not quite quiet fireworks,
blooms bursting in air,
a rainbow exploded,
flowerworks surround.