It's a sunny day, the wind is much shriller;
Hang some negative words on the wire.
Forget for a few minutes; go out hastily,
They'd be all parroting with glee, freely.
You're astounded at the magic of them;
Think how possible, when no wizard came.
You throw them in a pond in petulance;
Their white petals they fan out thence.
You trim them with scissors, and snap;
Through the globe they smile and on the map.  
You string them in a piano and in a guitar;
On the air they dance about love and war.
You store them in a hive, huge and kind;
Their honey they bear for the whole mankind.