Be Best This Gifted Vine Lit Flower. Poem by Michael Gale

Lo' vinely vine of finely power...
Be best this gifted vine lit flower.

Daintly set beside thy tower....
Lo' this beautied plant lies here and
absorb thy rayes of sun lit tan.

Smell this vinely, vinely flower...
Sweetest smell not be'th sour.

Pick thy prickly sprig...
Pick thee not nor dead wilted twig.

Grown as tall as tall as vine...
Grown again as fine vine wine.

Squeezed like wine t'ween building bricks...
Loosen sparingly as to not do picks.

Daisey petals white as rice...
Yellowed buttonal center smells so nice.

Green stem reaches down to earth...
Since last time of origined old birth.

Winters' freeze will come to wrap...
Wilted in sleep to not soon be awakened to flap or clap.

Yellow fellow in the Southernest wind...
Never to have humanly lived and evilly sinned.

Rain falls to fill your green leafy sails...
Wetter than wettest of slug moving snails.