King of the flowers, in royal robes attired,

Tall in border raise your noble height,

Bringing the blue of summer sky to earth;

Ranging from palest azure are you spired

Through all the firmament to deepest night,

Commanding love and awe by your sheer worth.

And are you proud to be so much admired,

Or do you take it as your lawful right,

Knowing that you were destined so from birth,

Pacific Giants with ambition fired?

To what shall I compare you?  You defy

My power of words, like soaring buildings do;

To bees you must be sky-scrapers in blue,

With small white windows into which they pry.


Weekly Times     1.7.60