This morning of mornings when dawn
on waking tints her blue face
with wispy-white make-up,
when no breeze stirs the quiet or ruffles
day's essence I breath in a
freshness and thrill at being alive.

This summer of summers when growth
all around thrusts to race
upwards at re-born pace
as ardour covers the ground, when force
invades plant-space I taste
the fight and feel their excitement.

This delight of delights when July affords
warmth to outdoor creations
with florally fragile fragrance,
when petal exposure's juicy insides show
a future of fat seed sameness
I become awed by beauty's survival.