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The flowers all together played
A silent symphony,
Where concert of aromas formed
A splendid potpourri.
The garden was a peaceful site,
A place without dissension,
Until the daffodil complained
She never got attention.
She claimed the rose got too much praise,
And others all agreed.
Each thought the fragrance that she bore
Was just as sweet, indeed.
The honeysuckle boasted that,
With sense olfactory,
She was the instigator used
To stir up memory.
The next to join in the debate,
The summer savory,
Revealed how her rich essence could
Improve a recipe.
The chamomile and lemon balm
Were smug as they could be,
When they shared their importance in
Aromatherapy.
The added voice of hyacinth,
Of plum, of peony,
Of jasmine, of gardenia
Became cacophony.
The sage declared cessation to
This mad buffoonery,
Commanding them to work again
As a perfumery.
She said that God gave every one
A scent that was unique
To harmonize a bright bouquet
In His outdoor boutique.
The flowers all together played
A silent symphony,
Where concert of aromas formed
A splendid potpourri.
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