In swathes of gold and scarlet, tiny tissue petalled faces
Shimmering and dancing in the mild late-summer showers,
I see the constant miracle of nature's ordered paces.
Finding dusty husk that buried deep in dry soil, cowers,
Magic tears of rain join with warm sun's tenderest rays
To coax from many years of hiding, unexpected flowers.  
A tiny drop of moisture on the kernel's hard shell plays,
Enjoins with summer warmth ‘til the seedling it empowers
To burst through the armoured coating that it once relied on
For comfort and protection throughout years of isolation.
My dark heart was that seed, then your sun upon it shone,
My defences were in place ‘til soaked by tears of passion,
This bloom that is our love, though so late in summer starting,
Is much stronger for the wait, and will last ‘til our departing.