A dewy sunday morn I hiked
The hills and vales afar
To winnow spring's sublimest tree -
Of beauty none on par.
What must have borne intent of mine?
For decked in bridal best
Each ripe it seemed with potpourri
To charm my sense with zest.
A redbud flush with purplish pink
At once bestrew a spell
Of such celestial bliss as matched
By speckless silverbell.
Amid this rich tableau I stood
With sense of beauty blurred
For hues in such proportions sweet
Had not so far occurred.
In time a breeze perfumed arrived
And waft my sight athwart
Toward a sweet magnolia tree
Of granduer nothing short.
And then a squirrel pair alit
A palm that bore no bloom
But rose so humbly high - the sun
Appeared to be her plume.
From nowhere reigned a midday tune
And led me into glee -
A hawthorn, whereon songbirds perched,
Performed to soul's decree.
Unhooked from time I basked in tunes
And strolled along a stream
Befringed with mellow apricots
That reveled spring's regime.
But soon the skies above the pine
Prepared to shine the moon,
So there I lay at banyan's base
Engrossed in nature's croon.
A splendid day in woods it was -
I chanced on all I sought,
And mused on how I could adjudge
The best amongst the lot.
The one that glowed with merry shades
Or one which waved her balms?
The one that bowed its dearest yields
Or one which nested psalms?
Allured by forms akin in grace
How could I tell apart?
Perhaps I might discern the prime
When autumn springs her art.
The hills and vales afar
To winnow spring's sublimest tree -
Of beauty none on par.
What must have borne intent of mine?
For decked in bridal best
Each ripe it seemed with potpourri
To charm my sense with zest.
A redbud flush with purplish pink
At once bestrew a spell
Of such celestial bliss as matched
By speckless silverbell.
Amid this rich tableau I stood
With sense of beauty blurred
For hues in such proportions sweet
Had not so far occurred.
In time a breeze perfumed arrived
And waft my sight athwart
Toward a sweet magnolia tree
Of granduer nothing short.
And then a squirrel pair alit
A palm that bore no bloom
But rose so humbly high - the sun
Appeared to be her plume.
From nowhere reigned a midday tune
And led me into glee -
A hawthorn, whereon songbirds perched,
Performed to soul's decree.
Unhooked from time I basked in tunes
And strolled along a stream
Befringed with mellow apricots
That reveled spring's regime.
But soon the skies above the pine
Prepared to shine the moon,
So there I lay at banyan's base
Engrossed in nature's croon.
A splendid day in woods it was -
I chanced on all I sought,
And mused on how I could adjudge
The best amongst the lot.
The one that glowed with merry shades
Or one which waved her balms?
The one that bowed its dearest yields
Or one which nested psalms?
Allured by forms akin in grace
How could I tell apart?
Perhaps I might discern the prime
When autumn springs her art.
Jan 4, 2013