Forewarning of August
It is a clear and cloudless Sunday morn.
August heat has yet to show its true form.
Air so still, doesn’t move the silk of the corn,
Only sound heard is the bees as they swarm.
Present are the signs of a coming change,
The ubiquitous green begins to wane.
Friendship with the flowers becomes estrange,
Queen of flowers, the rose resigned her reign.
Watched many lilies grow to such great height,
Filling the air with sweetness while in bloom,
But now I watch such a pathetic sight,
Floating down each petal falls to its doom.
Though sad, there should be no grievous pain.
It is not death, merely taking a rest.
Needed for their strength to regain.
Soon to return in full beauty and zest.
Rose in the Snow
Autumn leaves are now easily scattered,
Running here and there seeking safe cover,
Away from a wind visibly angered.
Is there nowhere to avoid its bluster?
The red rose shows courage standing her ground,
Not yielding an inch as the vexed wind swirled,
In its effort her colors to impound.
As a taunt bright red color she unfurled.
Then ever vengeful wind throws ice of white,
Pummeling her through the darkness of night.
Each passing hour she continues to fight,
Her red color remains at sun’s first light.
Though winning the battle the end is near,
But rose in the snow shall return next year.
Blanzifiore, Dante Gabriel Rossetti (1873)
In my lonely heart it remains winter
It is you who can break this darkened spell
If into my heart your love will enter
Providing much warmth, the cold you’ll expel
This tender flower a symbol of you
The snowdrop so frail yet with much power
Able to conquer the snow, pushing through
Destroys winter, being spring’s first flower
Beauty in its display of purity
It whiteness shall shine bright into the night
As the vastness of your inner beauty
Making your presence a loving delight
My heart given freely at your command
From this day to go forward hand in hand
Mujer en el jardín, Pierre-Auguste Renior (1872)
Woman in the Garden
Emeralds, Sapphires, Topazes, Rubies
Filling my garden this sunny June day
Come walk, feeling the gentle warming breeze
See bees here and there dancing their ballet
Stop to wonder a greater sight to see
Profusion of color before my eyes
Drinking without pause all of its beauty
All on display under a clear blue sky
No need for the gardens of Babylon
Or Cimetière du Père Lachaise
Forget manicured gardens of Fairlawn
For me to be, there is no other place
Each little gem I consider a friend
This is where I shall my many hours spend
Windflowers, John William Waterhouse (1902)
Thou garner my flowers then dash away,
Thy beauty is much greater than their sum.
Alluring garden would be if thou stay,
Just remain ‘til thee be final blossom.
Sent the wind to touch your ivory skin.
Purer than that of newborn mother’s milk,
Protecting thy beauty which burns within.
Come stay awhile so I may touch thy silk.
Do sense a hesitation in thy pace,
Thy action causes heartbeat to increase.
Turn so I may see thy beautiful face,
This feeling of love for thee shall not cease.
Let me braid my flowers into thy hair,
And I shall give my heart to thee to wear.