Concordant Contradiction
The patience that a peony requires
Is like the quietness of petals bound
In sleep through early spring. That calm inspires
The mildest fragrances and colors found
When waiting petals finally unfold
On breezes later April breathes. Pastel
Perfumes and tints come out from hearts of bold
Red splashes. Ouchly orange stamens yell
With pollen loudly as a silence can
And so tranquillity encloses at
Its core a shouting beauty, too. The span
A peony embraces includes splat
And grace together. Mildness has a flash
Of madness in it as its gaudy cache.