They were just seeds in the ground
Whether they fell in wild thorns or hard grounds
They grew tall and red
Their branches wide and cedar
Their leaves wreathe in emerald
Their oval heads spark open and gloss the ornate skies
Their petals sheath in brightness, awake in scarlet
And in nights storm, they bold their petals and inhale the cold
In cold winds, they breathe out their charms
In cold clouds, they quell the stars' shine

Their amber crowns tease the sun
And smell like butter, better in the scorch
Under their honey shades, their fragrance roots romance
And pour a taintless touch of love

When drought draws nigh and parch the grounds
Their leaves slack and whither brown
Their maypole anthers bit under the weather
Their clammy roots sturdy in sandy
And erode the mole hills

Their petals wrestle with the sun
And the surly thorns pinch their amber crowns
Whether the sun sucks their scarlet sheen
Or the wild thorns shove their heads
They were and are still,


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