Sunday Lilies

They're outlandish, these huge, overdressed ladies shamelessly wagging their pollen-dusted stamens for all to see, so much pollen that the excess spills all over their petals, staining them rusty brown, like ladies of a certain age and poor eyesight who use a heavy hand at the make-up table and end up with spatterings of face power all over their silk blouses.  Loud, silly, unseemly, excessive, blowsy, blatant, and beautiful. Even the frog is startled. Look at him. "OMG!" he thinks. "Do I run away? Or maybe I'll just sit here under these gorgeous astonishments . . . . and dream."