I walked along the park road,
Taking in the scents of spring.
I drew near an open field
And beheld a wondrous thing!
So many perfect flowers,
Gently nodding in the air,
Twenty thousand perfect blooms,
In the field were growing there.
A verdant plain of colors
All in blues and whites and reds,
So perfect and in order,
Shooting straight up from their beds.
As I drew near my heart ached,
And my will began to lag.
The blossoms made my tears flow,
For each flower was a flag.