by Tex Norwood

In the garden where plumeria seedlings grow,
A special moment sets hearts aglow.
When the first bloom unfolds in the light,
It’s time for a name, bright and right.

This bloom, the first of many to grace,
Marks a beginning, in time and space.
A naming, a celebration of its debut,
A rite of passage, for something so new.

What’s in a name for this first bloom?
It’s a whisper of futures, in nature’s womb.
A symbol of the journey from seed to flower,
Capturing essence, beauty, and power.

Perhaps a name that sings of its hue,
Vivid and vibrant, be it yellow or blue.
Or a name that echoes its fragrance so sweet,
A perfumed melody, a sensory treat.

The joy of naming, when first blooms appear,
Is a gardener’s delight, year after year.
In each name, a story begins to unfurl,
A bond between the gardener and the floral swirl.

With each petal that opens to the sky,
The plumeria takes a name, with a satisfied sigh.
In this act of naming, a connection is sealed,
In the garden’s tapestry, gracefully revealed.

For every first bloom, unique and bold,
Carries a name, a story untold.
In the joy of naming, we find our part,
In the life of a plumeria, a work of heart.

So cherish the moment, the bloom, the name,
In the world of plumeria, no two the same.
In naming a bloom, we share its story,
A moment of wonder, simple, yet glory.

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