O’ brilliant bud, how thy beauty fills me,
Looking upon thy delicate petals bloom.
Heaven sent–I see birth within thee,
Erupting with grace from nature’s womb.
~
How perfect art thee O’ simple flower,
Delicately sculpted by the hand of God.
Splendid creation through wondrous power,
Where mortal man darest not trod.
~
Thy life doth mimic that of our own,
So brief, blooming into the loveliest rose.
Until thy beauty fades as time hath shown,
Returning to dust, on north wind blows.
~
Regrets they’ve none for none required,
When thy final day comes and ye lay down tired.
~
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Dom DiFrancesco 
[ Smiles ] This is some top class poetry!
Thank you Renard, I really appreciate your nice comment. :)
very nice, Dom. So few have a stab at poetry with old English such as ‘ye’, ‘thee’ etc, it worked well, pal. keep smiling and keep writing, best wishes from baldy.
Thank you Baldy, I appreciate it. I love old English although sometimes I get concerned that I might use it wrong. In any case I’m glad that you liked the poem.
A great poem —— very Shelley-esque!
Thank you Jen…I just felt like getting my “Ye Olde English” on. :)
;)