like lost souls who never met their closest next of kin;
jacarandas without leaves, that purple in the blazing heat,
let petals fall and dance their tune to land upon my naked feet.
bright mauve dancers in their skirts that bloom to ease my pain,but, hark, who comes, in blazing flames, of scarlet, maroon, red?
that sprouted from unearthly source behest of heaven's rain;
jacarandas in a row, that give my neighbourhood heartbeat,
and grace daybreak and sunset with your sickly, sorrowed sweet.
like ginger children, freckled souls, and grins upon their heads;
and not of one, but many breeds, whose flowers stake their claim,
pray tell my sweet, what blushing brides have chosen be thy name?
a hibiscus, a wee bird's beak, a sanguine vase, a hide-and-seek,perhaps it is that in their grace, they seek not to compete or shy, but cloaked in regal of the kings they make one falter and assume,
but choreographed petals lain to lay upon a lover's cheek;
but how could such a beauteous thing make jacarandas seem so lame,
if only to be called a lord, the sight of one, a forest flame.
so ask ye men, not what or who, or beg not know the whence or why, to let the summer throne their reign the purples reds are in full bloom.