Ah, I've always love Bird of Paradise. Mom grew them in the atrium outside my bedroom when I was a kid (she had a tropical garden there was a banana tree plant right next too my bedroom door)
Falling water stopped in flight, then slowly flutters to alight. In doing so, it paints our place, our planet, seen in white, from space Slowly changes in seasons slow To browns then greens and flowered glow This strange liquid, a natural show, Is jeweled starlight we call snow
1 comment:
Ah, I've always love Bird of Paradise. Mom grew them in the atrium outside my bedroom when I was a kid (she had a tropical garden there was a banana tree plant right next too my bedroom door)
hmmmm. (sigh) It's nice to be back.
xxoo
kb
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