some of your words in poetry with help from AI
In the stillness of last week's dawn,
I captured the first rose, delicate and bold,
Its petals unfurling, a symbol of new beginnings,
A promise of beauty, preserved in a photograph.
Now, it adorns the screen of my phone,
A reminder of fleeting moments, of time's gentle march,
As the lilacs we planted last year,
Burst forth in a riot of purple and white.
Today, the first rose has wilted,
But in its place, seven others bloom,
Their fragrant blossoms reaching towards the sun,
Dozens more waiting, on the cusp of opening.
The lilacs stand proud, still in their prime,
Their sweet scent mingling with the warm spring air,
And the peonies, with their tightly closed buds,
Whisper secrets of blossoms yet to come.
As I gaze upon this ever-changing canvas,
Nature's masterpiece unfolding before me,
I am filled with a sense of wonder and gratitude,
For the beauty that surrounds me, in every bloom and sprout.
This garden, a living tapestry of colors and scents,
A reflection of life's cycles, of growth and renewal,
I am reminded of the simple joys that nature offers,
And the love that blooms alongside each new flower.