thou art a fair flower
in which bees drink from to heighten their senses while journeying on to find their homes
thy pollen is a sweet thing such as honey
a nectar which leaves them drunk and excited and ready to travel home through heavy summer air
thou art a fair flower
in which i pick to smell on sweet afternoons
thy essence carries me to places anew which
no other flower could ever compare to
i take thee home and as thy scent echoes through the rooms splendiferously the air is turned soft and welcoming
and it bids me hello and goodbye all at once
thou art a fair flower
in which rain falls upon to leave its breath of dew when morning hath risen from slumber
and night hath said its tearful farewells
and as thy petals fall to the ground
the moon reminds the stars not to fret
for as long as flowers are resting upon the earth
night will fall once more and grant us peaceful slumber
