A flower’s life begins as a tiny seed at birth

It then buries itself, deep within the Earth

There it sleeps, in the ground

Making not a sound

Then spring comes along,

Spreading its joyous song

At last the infant seed awakes, ready to claim its bower

It slowly sprouts toward the sky, becoming a true flower

Yet all too soon King Frost arrives, beginning his wicked reign

He chases away animals and starts causing pain

Among the beautiful flowers, one cries out in woe,

In fear of Frost’s freezing sleet, ice, and snow

Now gone are the delicate petals, and gone are the sweet smells

Gone is everything the flower ever was, including the flower itself