Sonnet 46, Flowers Of Beauty... Poem by Peter S. Quinn

Flowers of beauty and select of earth,
Each goal they'll try to reach on their own;
Into directions where prevision wasn't shown,
They grow on to flourish from moment of birth.
Wildflowers entwining what they are worth,
Erect standing against a wind that's blown;
From a direction which they have been sown,
To fully mature and to express mirth.
The seed that don't grow to become a tree,
Don't blossom at all in the early spring.
It can not be promised enlightening relieve,
For it must wake up to begin to see.
What out coming colors to earth could bring,
Delicate and blameless none do they deceive.