It seems a natural act,
Sunflowers bow down to the ground
As their flower petals fall,
They do so slowly, without sound
In Spring they grow straight upwards,
Reaching high up as would trees,
There to make it easier for
Summer’s humming birds and bees
I truly find sunflower scent
Is pleasanter than most,
Their brown florets let aromas of
Warm cinnamon on toast
Yet be careful of your nose
There’s yellow pollen on bee knees,
Which if too heartily sniffed is surely
Bound to make you sneeze
Then come the days when they will turn
And ready for the fall,
Seeing heavy canes all bowing
Is the saddest sight of all
And then they kip face over
Lying abject on the dirt,
Until the day seed faces sprout,
Sometime about next April first
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