The orchestra is tuning up The strings are tight, the reed is rightThe show is underway. "The baby figs have come,the baby figs have come, And the baby paw-paws too." Peeking from beneath the bark, But knowing what to do. The fig, a tiny air balloon, Its leaves, green bandana. The paw-paw looks for all the world, Panicled bananas. I've checked them all-peaches and plums, And apple blossoms too Oriental pears and plums, All to give their fruit. I'm having trouble with the grape. But, confessions seem in order. I didn't weed them like I should. Thinking they'd been martered. This year has been our floral best. Lily, ginger, rose. Amaryllis strutted all their stuff, Are now near in repose. Johnny jumpups croud the edges, And spring up in the yard. A tiny flower they may be, I'm always on my guard. To miss them with the mow machine, When I mow the yard. So now the orchestra is all tuned. A finale to be grand. The mighty daylily to win the day. And I sit and wring my hands. I sit amazed, these lives to be. Allowed to witness chemistry, Going on inside the leaves, inside the bud, inside the tree. The soil's the same and the beauty's free. As God mixes his concoctions with all His Glory be.