In times of the age, a man seeks the bloom,
A flower, elusive, in the heart's pure room.
Under the moon's silver, its petals confide,
A nocturnal demise, in daylight, revived.

With whispers of roses, the garden's hush,
Echoes of footsteps, a clandestine crush.
Crickets compose a serenade so sweet,
Amidst shadows dancing to a clandestine beat.

A symphony of nightingales, their melodic grace,
As the flower awakens, a delicate embrace.
Morning glory unfolds, unveiling hues so divine,
A kaleidoscope painted, a masterpiece align.

Yet the world's gaze, like butterflies, flutters,
Drawn to the blossom, where admiration utters.
With the lotus sound of applause so clear,
Nature applauds the spectacle, drawing near.

In the twilight, a sonnet of fragrance, a scent,
Whispers of jasmine, in the air, are lent.
A sonorous rustle, as leaves gently sway,
Nature’s own verses, composing the day.

The man, now a poet, pens verses untold,
In pursuit of a flower, its story unfolds.
A quest for beauty, in day and night's tether,
The eternal search for the ephemeral flower.

© Saighoe Francis Asilfie Kweku