Waiting buds spring forthabundant and new.
A sign of promise and hope.
Renews vigor and faith.
Seasonal bliss.
White blooms, pure and glorious.
Soon to fall
like snow
quietly, lightly.
A turn of time.
Another tick of the clock.
It all begins again.
Collectively we sigh.
Absorbing the beauty before us
while it last.
Clutching the memory
to sustain us
against a coming winter's wind.
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1 comment:
Wait until my flowers are in bloom then I shall share all of the pictures with you.
Ray
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