Flame trees
My tropic home in Maytime bursts
With the orange joy of a fiery high!
They give delight, while brown earth thirsts
For the first rains pouring from the sky.
Dapdap
The coral tree’s abloom with red
Spikey flowers, on shore, in woods…
Its leaves can cure some ills we dread—
It’s one of nature’s precious goods!
Orchids
Whose hand, designing, drew your shape
Of wildest curves and a myriad fold
Then put in colors that draw our gape…
All of the rainbow, silver and gold?
In crimson and pink, or purple and fuchsia
They shower the land with bright flamboyance
Thorns hide in leaves, these shouldn’t faze you,
As they burst into summer’s warm radiance.
Everlasting
Soft in its youth in Baguio’s loam
It lives on through the heat and rains;
It blooms atop my mountain home…
Till only a dried-up crown remains.
Sunflowers
This mirasol looks up at the sun
Soaks up the light to spread its mirth.
When in full bloom, it looks like one
Round face smiling upon the earth.
In London parks, I saw them bloom
From clumps of green: yellow and white.
After the gray and sullen gloom
Of winter comes cool springtime’s rite.
Roses
In Parc Monceau or far Bouchard
In Burnham Park or Camp John Hay*
In her garden where she works so hard—
My mother’s scent will always stay.
*Parc Monceau is in Paris; Bouchard Garden is in Victoria, Canada; Burnham Park and Camp John Hay are in Baguio.
2010