time of year, when flowers are in bloom, is a joyous one. I spend every possible
moment in local botanical gardens, gladdened by their beauty. Occasionally,
there is a chance to be amidst the blossoms at twilight, when Evening Primroses
open their golden petals.
She worships Lord Apollo from afar.
Veiling her face, and peering at his light
Through closed eyelids. Then Venus, evening star,
And patroness of those who long to plight
A troth appears. The maiden, sweet and shy,
But overcome by longing, girds her heart,
And shows herself. Too briefly, she will spy
The trail of his magnificence. A part
Of her timid soul flies after him, and
Perfumes the twilight hours with desire.
Bearing his train, she spreads o'er all the land,
A pale reflection of his golden fire.
All night, she dreams of him she loves, and then,
As dawn approaches, hides her smile again.
Copyright 2010 Eddy Robey