Painted Flower

A poem about the beauty of a flower and how it dies in the winter to be reborn in spring.

Oh mighty flower
I bend over to peer at your face
I am transfixed by your coy smile
Your scent beckons me to come closer
What do you have hidden among your soft folds?
Oh morning glory
Your shadows attract many visitors
I am amazed at how bees drink your sweet nectar
In the fall
You begin to fade in beauty
But not in grace
Then you droop and wither
You shed your mighty crown
And you die
Be buried under a blanket of snow
But in the spring
The soft breath of dew
Resurrects you
And you burst forth new and green
Greetings!
Oh painted flower
Why is there a tomorrow?
Because painted flowers cannot live forever