"The Cycle of A Flower."

The Cycle of a Flower

Here we have the rain again;
the wind is blowing cold.
My garden will not bloom again;
for summer has grown old.

One flower stands with drooping head;
it cannot face the sun.
No fragrance from its heart to shed;
it's little life is done.

And yet should I not save the seed;
another year to sow?
And then I'd have just what I need;
a whole new flowering row.

By Ellen Northup; 1951