Bark curls Thin like pages of a Sappy paperbackAbandoned on a park bench,Scorned and flapping in protest;Fighting with the windPage edges turning on themselvesRain soaked, weather dried,  Puckered and twisted in agonyAt the rejection

 Where Ocean Stops And Sky StartsI cannot Tell,But Know they Never Touch,Yet always Touch Sky to Sea,Sea to Sky,Blue on Blue,Of the Same Stuff.

From the crackled mulch of fallen leaves, Brown blanket of sticks and soil,Springs a twelve-petaled piece of sunshine.For a simple heart that still believes,God faithful in spreading joy will,Send a smile from a flower's face to mine.