FALSE ALARM

Just when I get to thinking that I’d better be finding my snow boots
Because it’s the first of August
And you can never be too well prepared
Given that the geraniums are full and luscious
The pansies are on the wane
With the lilies on their tail
And the peony blossoms a distant memory,

That’s when I notice that the Acidanthra are opening,
And the gladioli are poking up their buds through the evening scented stocks,
With the roses preparing for a second blooming round,
While the asters perform final stage checks before making their dazzling August entrance.

And then, noticing these things,
I am grateful that I, in many mid-summers past,
Heard the false alarm of snow boots pressure,
And found a way to silence it with flowers.