For all, there is a purpose Change is necessary Better days are coming It’s a cozy home for fairies A food source for bees A tranquil place of rest Where thoughts are cultivated Sown and confessed Blooming into flowers If just for their season With seeds to dry and keep ‘til the next go around
Moonbeams shine On the Eve of Spring Highlighting the pond Where the peepers sing Songs of hope For warmer days Songs of welcome To with us stay Through the transition The seasonal shift Flowers emerge As Spring’s first gift
A tale of sun And summer days Where bees work And rabbits play In butterfly gardens Under skies of blue Where migrant birds Are just passing through En route to find More days of sun In a far-off land Where summer’s just begun
Watered from above And showered with love This is how a garden grows
It’s right about now When dandelions appear With bright yellow flowers Blossoming far and near Though they’ve been called Nothing more than weeds They are so much more So much more, indeed The bees and butterflies Find them, “Oh, so pretty!” They’ll grow anywhere Whether country or city They add much-needed interest To a lawn… Read More Happy Little Flowers
Yellow petals Delicate and strong Remind us all That we, too, belong Through our uniqueness Our fragility Our seasons of change In the Garden of Life We’re all beautifully Arranged
Just because You crossed their mind And they wanted you to know You’re one of a kind Just because They truly care And recognize Life doesn’t play fair Just because They wanted you to smile They picked up tulips At the end of the aisle Just because They thought of you Is the sweetest thing… Read More Just Because
As we close the door on September Summer months we fondly remember: Pastel petals saluting the light Sun-soaked they welcome the night That soon overstays its welcome. Petals brown under filtered light Lacy clouds veil the moon at night Color shifts from the flowers To the tree’s open arms In a seasonal embrace We feel… Read More October’s Charm
We all have a placeOn our great blue earthYou, me, and the beesWe all have worthWhether planting,GatheringOr admiring it allWe all have a placeLarge or smallOn our great blue earthWe matter, all
She has a way about her Hot-tempered She boils and stirs The air Until heavy and thick Weighted In the intensity We bow Resigned to knowing Mere flowers, we are Dried between August’s pages An homage to her When the calendar reflects The depths of wintertime
Jessica M. Collette 
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