Lily Of The Valley

A traditional poem

She bows her floral bell to the ground
and knows you will come around
In May, to the moon garden
where you will be certain


of beauty in small stolons
her creation of her own potion
the one with it's own need
never blooms from a seed

Scalloped edges nod with flow
In the shade she will grow
Inhale her perfume scent
'N enjoy her perfect accent

between your stepping stones
under ground she will clone
her natural beauty among the brush
with leaves so curvy, green 'n lush

Let her grow among her own
She only thrives within her zone
As pretty as she might be
She is a delicious weed.