So Much.
To pluck from a wondering mind brisk words of applause
when on golden mornings
I watch a sunflower slowly lifting its stiff grass coloured
under-vest to expose more
yellow petals or a small breeze busying rose trees with
delicate brushing I note
their flushes as nature pours droplets of nectared dew
ready for bees then scan
frilly sweet-pea signals of gratitude for rising warmth
followed by upright dazzle
of foxglove heads greeting postnight by velvety nods
and while marigold regalia
politely shakes welcome to light my hope to phrase
these floral wakings with
adequate words and do credit to beauty by poetry
pales with so much to see.