Lip-pink pedals parade down from near-ancient stems
weaving, falling into a grassy bed like toppling diadems,
or may wade into the faultless pond.
Grace of gentle spring, behold thou to see;
A cohort of rose petals circle a shining lily.

Stoic, waxen clouds reflect off the pond’s dress,
like lurid eyes savoring upon Aphroditic chest.
Verdentine trees of vibrant, leafy complexion,
look bereavedly on their naked brethren,
winter’s wrath stripped them naked at every section,
and forced their figure into cold sobriety
like Phryne’s disrobement which proved her piety.

Whilst a chromatic melody defies an overcast dew,
an idyllic elk marked by a wolf’s claw,
Takes refuge beside a waiting camassine blue,
Healing in wait, thine survivor of natural law,
wounds slowly unwounded under the cherry blossom’s awe.