Magnolias were flushed with ire.
Alone within the garden pale
A tall palmetto gently swayed,
Serenely straight its feathered head
Above all else had skywards strayed,
To catch the first, faint blush of dawn,
To linger long with sunset's glow,
To trace the moon's illusive course
From orange disc to silvery bow.
So strove the palm and was content