Her

Amidst  all those colors on a fine spring morning she chose hers and there  she first blossomed,
They  called  it love.
She then  bloomed once again when she imparted  her beauty to the loving touch of  her man
Yet again, for the  last  time  she flowers through the soft caress of her beloved little one,
She endured all that came her way
Only to some day wither away
They called  her woman