Thousands of orange petals
Shimmer in an opal daze.
A blanket of stars surrounds the earth,
As slowly she turns
To welcome the night.
They sway together,
Each blood-orange flower different.
Each size,
Each shape,
Each colour,
Not one the same as the other.
Yet they stand together,
Under the white glowing sphere of night.
With stems as green as peas,
And airy as falling leaves.
The summer breeze is warm
Against their delicate flesh.
Loving is the soil that encircles
Their feet.
They are the flowers of the light,
The protectors of the fields,
And the purest of gifts
On a warm summer night.