I often wonder how these flowers were created,
The earth hand crust prepared and recreated
I have the tapestry created around,
All so green and with no sound.
With the grass thread woven the landscape,
And the fringes so edged on the base.
A blue and green ocean I could see,
The purest waves moving in the sea.
The balls of white daisy and lily,
A mix of orange-red, poppies growing freely.
The rose and pansy have something to say,
One is brighter; other grows all around April to May.
The flowers are all so succulent,
It grows so bright and a fragrant,
The flowers are beautiful painting,
In the canvas of earth, its beauty depicting.
The earth grows every seed with its warmth,
Promising to bring it to the world defining its worth.
The earth teaches every flower to bloom,
Live in every heart, there should be no gloom.
It makes it confident with colourful smile,
Every person who comes near is mesmerized for a while.
Often the flower is plucked to gift,
It still smiles knowing well it will decay swift.
Even when its ruthlessly crushed,
It leaves it fragrance when smudged.
The flowers are symbols of sacrifice,
Its short lived but teaches lessons wise.
Live your life for someone’s need,
Die like a hero believing in rebirth from thrown seed…
