The lone Magnolia blooms on its own,
Iv’ry arms lift up in vict’ry rounded
Crowned jewel of the South delicately grown;
Such precious view, this bud, hearts impounded.
Beauteous thine glow in textured sunshine,
Like a candle lit day and night skyward
Praying for the people and land combine,
As a sail soars so doth this tree highward.
Older than time hath thee grown and ruled,
Thine fragrance flow, smiles enchanting the wind,
And as gusts sigh such harmony refueled
In due season, honored and disciplined.
More flowers I dreamed, yet none hath here grown,
So maiden noble, I bow before thine throne.