As ephemeral as nature
Capable of a multitude of manifestations
Is the bud-like core
Of beauty
Possessed by all
Within the soul she sleeps,
Waiting, anticipating eagerly
The conscientious care
And wise judgment
Of Nature’s craftsman
To unearth her incandescent grace
In spring,
Her presence makes the roses red
Because to see her rosy exquisiteness make them blush for shame
In summer,
The fiery vigor of the sun turns gentle
So touched is he by her demure loveliness
In autumn,
Her cheeriness seduces the billowing wind
Riling the leaves into a golden-red frenzy
In winter,
Snowflakes turn pale with envy
At her sophistication unsurpassed
The gardener awaits,
To lend his grace
Whenever desired
With his wardrobe of apparatus
He will don her such
That her beauty is manifest
And asserting to the others
Her silent but true cry to
Envy Me
