Guarded within the old red wall’s embrace,
Marshaled like soldiers in gay company,
The tulips stand arrayed. Here infantry
Wheels out into the sunlight. What bold grace
Sets off their tunics, white with crimson lace!
Here are platoons of gold-frocked cavalry
With scarlet sabres tossing in the eye
Of purple batteries, every gun in place.
Forward they come, with flaunting colors spread,
With torches burning, stepping out in time
To some quick, unheard march. Our ears are dead,
We cannot catch the tune. In pantomime
Parades that army. With our utmost powers
We hear the wind stream through a bed of flowers.
~Amy Lowell – 1914 “A Tulip Garden”
April ignites an explosion:
Dazzling retinal hues
Grateful tears for such as this
Array of floral arms-
A rainbow on Earth
Brilliance hoped for.
Remembered in dreams,
Housed in crystal before shattering.