I saw her, the single tulip.
Her red head vibrant amongst the green ferns
at the bottom of the garden.
She stands tall, slender, straight,
almost surprised to find herself here.
I sit and stare as she trembles slightly
in the gentle April breeze.
The next time I visit her, she is still beautiful but
no longer the shy red head, her heart held tight
as a secret within her glorious crown.
Time and the warm days of spring have morphed her
into the sensuous belle of the ball.
She sways gaily, her head a little bent to the side,
proud, it seems, to display her changing hues,
no longer as pure scarlet as before but rich crimson, burgundy even,
unaware perhaps that her blousy chiffons ruffles
are starting to curl at the edges, fading to dusty pink.
Marie Paule Sheard
One of the Headingley Open Gardens collection. Click to see the full list