Challenge is an invitation to success. Jose B. Cabajar Now is come the month of roses! To the woods my verse has flown Gathering fragrance and honey From the blossoms newly blown. Beloved, come to the forest, The woodland shall be our shrine Scented with the holy perfume Of the laurel and the vine. From tree-top to tree-top flitting The birds greet you with sweet lay, Finding joyance in your beauty Fairer than the birth of day; And the haughty oaks and hemlocks Bend their leafy branches green Forming rustling, regal arches For the passage of a queen. All is perfume, song and radiance; Flowers open and birds sing: O Beloved, 'tis the season Of the Spring! Primaveral by Ruben Dario
Camella Bonnick
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