Poems (Hoffman)/Manzanita Blooms
MANZANITA BLOOMS
Not fairer the blossoms of April days,Or June aweary with gay bouquets,Or Autumn glowing with leaves and berries,Or faint with the fragrance of lighted rooms,Than the honeyed garland that Nature carriesIn the heart of the Western FebruariesWhen the manzanita blooms.But there on the sunny upland slopes,And crowning the rocky hills,Where the mountain oak tosses grey moss plumes,They open, the sweet manzanita blooms.And soon shall their fragrant pink-tipped flakesWeight the bending branch where the bird-song wakes,'Till the hill is white with their fragrant snows,And the first March wind through the tree-top blows.