Bloom

Bloom

In the hush of a spring‑lit garden,
Where the robin’s song still croons,
The first blush of bud‑dawn unfurls—
A quiet, fragrant promise in June.

The petals unfurl like letters,
Writing soft verses in green light,
Each blossom a storyteller,
Plotted through the clouds of the night.

We linger beneath that gentle canopy,
The meadow a painter’s palette bright,
The leaves sing in their dulcet tone—
“Come, witness the riotous sight.”

So let the summer’s warmth advance,
The bloom will never once decline,
For in every heart that keeps,
The flower of hope forever dafts.