Cascading blooms on a twisted vine
wrapped round an old lamp pole.
Reaching up towards the night
to bare their petaled souls.
The lamp globe casts an etheral glow
through a frosted glass.
The night moths flutter round the light
performing a frenzied dance.
The clustered flowers drape the pole
in a fragrant gown.
The new vines twine about the top
like a leafy crown.
The winds caress the dew dropped blooms
carrying their scent aloft.
The droplets shimmer as tiny jewels
on velvet petals soft.
The blooms by day are as a rainbow
arching cross the sky.
By night the shadows mix with hues
to baffle prying eyes.
The lamp pole and the blosooms
have learned to coexist.
Wouldn’t it be wonderful
if man could live like this.