The Flower

A beautiful thing is the flower.

A wonder to behold.

The many colors did nature shower,

It's petals to unfold.

In cool of morn, it's buds unfurl,

In promise of beauty foretold,

Blossoms open to tell the world,

Of exotic perfumes untold.

In dark of night on breezes waft.

The scents of time immortal.
Fragrances that drift so soft,

Through window, door, and portal.

By: My mom

Diane Jennings