Wayne Porter, The Flower</head><body><center><center><img src=http://www.saviodsilva.com/p1.gif border=0 alt=Saviodsilva></center><hr color=3C00FF size=4><br><font size=4 face=arial><b><a href=88.htm>Wayne Porter</a></b></font><br><center><img src=http://www.saviodsilva.net/poem/a/1.JPG border=0 alt=Poem></center><br><font size=3 face=arial><b>The Flower</a></b></font></center><blockquote><blockquote><p align=left><font face=arial size=2><b>I sit and watch the flowers bloom<br>and maybe sip some tea.<br>I love the color and the shapes<br>and pleasure given me.<br>Those wonderful smells give me delight<br>I enjoy a garden so.<br>I watch the bees and butterflies<br>as place to place they go.<br>I wonder if the flowers mind<br>the buzzing round their head.<br>I sure do, though not a flower<br>but because my hair is red.</b></font></p></blockquote></blockquote><hr color=0000ca size=3><center><font size=2 face=arial><b><a href=http://www.isavo.net/poem/sk1.htm>This Poem's Index Page 1</a><br><a href=http://www.yensa.net/poem/sk1.htm>This Poem's Index 2</a><br><a href=http://www.isavo.com/poems.htm>Poetry Website</a><br><a href=http://www.saviodsilva.com>Saviodsilva</a><br><a href=http://www.isavo.com>Isavo Site</a></b></font></center><SCRIPT LANGUAGE=JavaScript SRC=http://www.saviodsilva.org/r/fantasy.js></SCRIPT></body></html>