A trill like a fresh breeze rolling through the air.
A paradise of tropical, lime-like scents.
Petals like delicate silk between my fingers.
A colorful flame you at the seams, amidst a field of cool green.
A taste airy and flavorful, pockets of joy.
Beauty, a spring valley, laughter, radiance, life.
I pluck it from its stem, selfishly claiming its life,
To use as an accessory, to give away in a bundle,
To place on a shelf with its friends
So I can call it a collection.
A symbol of hope, pure and kind.