The blossom cares not whether I
rejoice its scent nor recognise
the balance found on Aprils morn
where circled life in splendour forms.
On cherry boughs in laden froth
set pink against the apple rise,
enticing fauna nectar rich
a-buzz within its gifts allure.
Set pure against the skies azure
full virginal in dainty white
sweet prunus in her teenage years
alive to what the future holds.
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