Amaryllis Poem by Adrian Fisga Luague

Betwixt sundown and the dawn,
What magic, life may have drawn?
Ain't that the golden wreathed charioteer,
Glorious on quest over azure horizon?

Could that be the black caped knight,
With silver freckles twinkling bright?
Its lone silver eyes reflects one's soul,
Enchanting a slumber's fall!

Nay, none of those, my child, none.
Neither it was the singing lyre,
Nor the songs of cherubs choir,
Not even a poet's rhythmic cry.

Magic exists upon the bell shaped blooms
Of scented amaryllis down the garden floors,
For betwixt sunrise and the dawn,
Beauty and life, fast-paced, it drawn.

A life well-lived is not a matter of age,
Neither it was of treasures and wage,
Nor the fame and wisdom of a sage:
It was 'bout happiness both gained and shared.

Live like the amaryllis, sprung out above its leaves,
Though passing is its scent and blooms are gone in a wink,
There's beauty and joy it alone can leave,
And dwell forevermore within my inks.