Oh To Be Like My Flowering Cherry Tree

In Spring she blossoms forth,
no concerns of what to wear,
festooned in flowered finery.

Dressed in green all summer long,
looked upon as cool and calm,
she casts others in the shade.

Come the fall she has a ball
in multicoloured frippery,
she happily strips, bit by bit.

Her limbs may glisten in the cold,
bejeweled in frosted crystals,
or shining bright in softest white.

She stands proud when naked,
no shame in an aging frame,
clothed or unclothed beauty reigns.