On the shores of Lake Como,
In the moon gardens of Suzhou,
On the walkway to our desert home,
I have been mystified,
Blessed and enchanted.
Each encounter begins anew
As a mystery and a surprise.
You are so small, hiding in plain sight,
Tiny blossoms clustered like yellow-white
Drops of cream in champagne flutes --
Small, even by hummingbird standards.
And you are sweet, not like
The deathly cloy of lilies or gardenia,
But fresh as berries and spring rain.
Only pleasant freesia’s nodding bells
Come close to your perfection.