The
bud shows it’s a peek of bright scarlet red
It
knows for its beauty it has been bred
Promise
of soft petals to open beyond compare
Its
needs sun and rain for more to bare
Opening
slowly it unfurls its glorious scarlet dress
None
can deny it will in evidently impress
Soft
petals open and curl back like silk and satin
It
holds the crown of horticulture within
It
will eventually fade its bright satin dress
But
never to look an untidy mess
Even
with age beauty cannot be stopped ; it will still last
Standing
tall and true till each petal ultimately falls past
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