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Click hereThere's fragrance in the air this time of year--
Hibiscus, bougainvillea, liatris,
And sounds rock the senses: the birds I hear
Are calling for mates. Morning showers kiss
My garden, leave behind a loving drink
That keeps it growing when the afternoon
Sun would beat it down, leave it on the brink
Of thirsty death. Then May will become June,
Flowers will give way to the luscious fruits
Of our labor, rich, green jungle. Life fills
This world with healthy color. Summer suits
This Eden, this tropical wonder; thrills
Around every corner, behind each tree,
Await our hungry eyes, which ache to see.
A fine sonnet with which to remember your warm clime. In a few months you'll be able to pen <i>Paradise Lost</i>.