How sweet the scent of purple plums
With garden's burst of blooms.
The lilac, rose, chrysanthemums,
A palette of perfumes.
Aromas roll and flow so lush
Imbued with summer's pace;
Caressing senses with such plush
Intoxicating grace.
Each fragrance wakes and takes control
Of longings lost within,
As nature pours out purest soul
And shares her secret sin.
Still carried lightly on the breeze
Seduction's lure so pure,
Erases winter's wicked freeze
With summer sun's allure.
The honey-bee and stamen kiss
Exchanging ecstasy,
As nature lulls the bee with bliss
To carry blooms to be.
I fondly stroll by beauty there,
With such humility,
While breathing deep the garden air
Of rich nobility
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