Ch 313: My Rangoon Creepers.

She wakes in white, a hush of spring,

Blooming gently in morning's wing.

With petals so shy and eyes so wide,

She wraps the sun then tries to hide.

By noon, she blushes in tender soft pink,

Timelessly aging, like an intoxicating drink.

She leans in close, her heart spilled,

Words like nectar, aesthetically fulfilled.

By dusk she burns red in glory,

Heart full of passion, a longing story.

Scent so strong, intense and sweet,

Lingering the soul where lovers greet.

By night she retreats to her tranquil lair,

Holding memories, too hard to spare.

Her hands enclosed in a silent prayer,

Dreams of romance, left hanging in air.