I would like to make,

A suggestion to the world,

In the routine rush,

Slow down your everyday roll,

Take time to smell the roses.

Sunrise melodies,
Awaken cool ocean air,
Kissed by Easter’s gifts.
Would it be foolish of me,
To name this day, Perfect Spring?

As the saying goes,
Without the words what am I?
A rose lacking thorns?
No matter how beautiful
Would I inspire poetry?

Without my consent,
Tossed aside and into dirt,
I am forgotten.
For a seasons turn I sleep,
Before I blossom in red.