Flowering Quince Poem by J.B. LeBuert

The flowering quince are beginning to bloom,
The harbinger of Spring every year.
Seen through my window, I leave the room,
To go outside, if only to peer.

The shrubs are some of my favorite bushes;
Red and white are the varieties I own.
Out from the buds, the vibrant bloom pushes.
Beauty unleashed, can exhort, an audible moan.

They'll be blooming for at least several weeks.
A dozen or so, scattered throughout the gardens,
At the beginning of Spring, to me it speaks.
That visitors are coming, to beg no pardons.

I love the company that I get;
Come to view the wondrous sight.
They're always welcome, some I've never met,
To get here, some drive, all through the night.

The fruit of the bitter tasting quince,
Are not very pretty, and their taste makes you wince.
The fruit comes later on in the year,
For now though, I'll just stand here, gaze and cheer.