Paradise Found

Laura, my wonderful soul-mate, loves and raises Roses. (One variety is named "the Paradise." Hence "Paradise Found") I marvel at her skill and tender care as she cultivates these beautiful and fragrant flowers. This was written several years ago as a tribute to my amazing wife. She has extended her gardening gift with remarkable results. I'm reposting my tribute poem here--a reminder of what an extraordinary, lovely, gifted, woman she is; thanks Laura for filling our lives with the simplicity of beauty nurtured from the Earth.

Summer.
Deck brittle with age, surrounded by color, a wall.
Satin petals: Red, Pink, Ivory, Maize.
Thorns a reminder: look, don't touch

Water droplets perfectly formed, wait to escape.
Bees busy, a harvest of nectar.
Woman sits, watches, filled with joy at the sight.

She labors with tender care.
Scarred by thorns, undaunted.
She plants, she feeds, she waters.

The full bloom of her effort,
a feast for the eyes
Delicious to smell.

Autumn.
Sun's path plunges
colors blaze then fade.
Not an end; pause, to rest.

Winter.
In time she plans for the deep white sleep of winter.
Well covered. Glory there still, but not.
They wait.

Spring.
She prepares the soil, a feast.
They awake from slumber, race to come out.
Canes the channel of life, carry lovely crowns through voyage to summer.

Summer.
In full bloom they linger.
Paradise found,
Celebrated, loved; a reminder,
In the begining God.

We don't get to be here long.

Liveitwell!