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“Lemon quince gently adrift at sunrise, Sweet harbinger, warmth will grace the near days. Playful breezes spin to catch fragrant sighs, From blooming buds rustling, soft floral sways, Nestled betwixt mighty branched leaves of green, Starry white petals uncoil, one by one; Stretching to drench in rays of late spring’s scene, Fanned floral saucers revive, ‘neath the sun. A strong gust shivers the splendid display, Dusting blissful, dulcet notes through the air; Wayward leaves wander, and scatter astray, Like weightless flutter of butterfly flair. Tumbling relics of a burgeoned giant, Magnolia renewed, abloom, defiant.” — Marie Helen Abramyan
Lemon quince gently adrift at sunrise,
Sweet harbinger, warmth will grace the near days.
Playful breezes spin to catch fragrant sighs,
From blooming buds rustling, soft floral sways,
Nestled betwixt mighty branched leaves of green,
Starry white petals uncoil, one by one;
Stretching to drench in rays of late spring’s scene,
Fanned floral saucers revive, ‘neath the sun.
A strong gust shivers the splendid display,
Dusting blissful, dulcet notes through the air;
Wayward leaves wander, and scatter astray,
Like weightless flutter of butterfly flair.
Tumbling relics of a burgeoned giant,
Magnolia renewed, abloom, defiant.