There’s a pretty purple Hydrangea by the window, 

with fluttering petals appearing so new, 

makes me feel so mellow 

when my remaining hours are few. 

She dances merrily when the wind blows 

as if angels dwell in her midst; 

when the sweet birds sing those divine melodies only God knows, 

offering pleasure souls can’t resist. 

She dances more graceful than a courtyard ballerina, 

moving smoothly as a dangerous viper, 

while the grass beneath her was at its greenest, 

as if blustery wind and golden sunlight were spring time’s magic piper. 

All the bunnies come from near and far 

to simply bask in her cool shade, 

without food stores, roof top, nor kitchen bar, 

all are cheerful in this mountain glade. 

Her superficial sight is most luxuriant, 

behold, her form is perfect! 

Her portrait I am painting is magnificent, 

not even heaven’s seraph would object. 

The valley spirits all surround thee, 

oh ye splendid flower in the oaken wood; 

Would you be as wonderful without me? 

Could e’er I do you any good? 

I am so honored only to stir the leaves at your feet, 

my pleasure is to simply pull the grass away! 

I am soothed with your gentle rustle by my bedside window in my sleep, 

I am greeted by you every morning when I awake. 

Oh ye glory of the heavenly gods! 

Thy scent bears the embrace of a wood side nymph! 

I long to visit you back in a distant time of glorious enlightenment and wealth that was, 

but today I must go where heaven has sent. 

I sit and gaze beholding your spectrum form, 

I perceive your divine spirit before my very eyes! 

You are certainly the most immaculate paragon outside of secular norm, 

I sense the motion moving inside. 

I perceive thy face, 

thy lips and radiant golden hair, 

inside our valley there is not sufficient space 

to contain this marvelous sensation in your lair! 

Flower of wonder! 

Oh ye angelic lady so fair! 

Hear the rolling thunder? 

Sweet cherub with the flowing sunlight hair, 

come waltz with me to the never-land down under!