Kamchatka Lilies Poem by Keith Shorrocks Johnson

LET US ACCEPT

To begin with, let us accept the following:
Poetry is love. Now we can continue:
So in Kamchatka lilies are blooming
In their naranja zest / burnt-gold hue

More beautiful than the russet curls
Of the youngest and most loved prince,
A scion of the Tsarskoye Selo world
From times that have passed to legend long since.

See the little boy gathered by the Tsarina
Her hair dressed with a dark diamante tiara,
Less in loveliness with all its arcane power
Than the Sarana's purpure-petalled flower.

So I gift with awe the verse that nature writes
In startling suns and jet-tipped star delights.