My Poetry. Whispers of Flowers.

In the garden’s quiet hours,
Softly bloom the tender flowers,
Dressed in hues of dawn and dusk,
Woven from the earth’s own musk.

Petals dance on winds that sigh,
Brushing lightly ‘neath the sky,
Every leaf, a secret spun,
Whispers tales to everyone.

Roses blush with crimson fire,
Sunflowers stretch with bright desire,
Lilies, pale and soft as light,
Glow beneath the moon’s soft flight.

In their silence, beauty grows,
More than any language knows—
A fleeting grace, a fragile bloom,
That turns the world from gloom to bloom.