Let's begin with the lily.

With its white virginal petals,

soft pink inside,

secret stamens,

the lily is a liar.

It is only fit to be clenched

to the breast of a blushing bride.

Lily, spinster

you shall never marry.

Bridesmaid, never the bride.

But who would want

the

long

walk

down a trembling never-ending aisle?

(Roses are more fashionable now,

at any rate!

Half price, two for one

on a perfect bouquet of posies!)

My sister, Petunia, married young.

Seventeen, out of school,

the deal done with a diamond ring,

beaming.

And then there was Rhododendron

who with her disarming smile, charmed Prince Charming.

Not forgetting sleepy Snowdrop

who, like Snow White,

awoke with a kiss!

On rainy days, we flowers must marry fast

for who, you ask

would marry a withered old shrub?

Hurry Lily, hurry!

Springtime is almost sung

Don't you know what the sunflowers are saying?

Don't you know what the windflowers are whispering?

Don't you know what the Chrysanthemums are crying?

Do you know? Do you really know?

My goodness, Lily, they think

you want to marry a fern!

(Though of course, ferns are nice,

in their own little ways too…)

But

it's not the same

not usual

not normal.

Lily, have I introduced you to Mr Crocus?

Ladies and flowers

I've an announcement to make;

I'm going to marry this conifer.