Beautiful.

There is a bloom I have seen,
In that garden on the way.
It sits back from the pickets and the 
Fancier groups,
And the sun sneaks down through the Blue Spruce;
Somehow,
All day...
Just for this bloom.
The sun says that,
"This one is special.
This is the one I can not ignore.
It shows,
Flawlessly,
In leaves and stem so perfect...
And petals...
A rhapsody of the perfect colours,
Exactly how beautiful,
'Beautiful'
Can be."