The Dearth of Bees
Spring, and pretty flowers have opened up, even those
that pretend they are not in a loving disposition.
Not many bees around anymore because of chemicals
farmers spray on crops many have gone metro and lost
interest, fly low over still water so they can admire their
flying skill, or sit on the sunny wall of my house full of
self admiration; some hang languidly around a honey jar.
The few that still take interest in beautiful flowers are
exhausted and drop dead long before the day is over.
Pretty flowers close petals over moist carpel and hope
for a better luck tomorrow.
Categories:
carpel, imagination, nature,
Form: Blank verse
Tame your wish to unfasten
the shut bud ‘til she’s willing!
Give her sweetest thoughts of spring.
Attract her, softly thrilling
with your words and compliments.
If the sprout of rose is closed
you need gentle kindheartedness.
Warm alluring breath of love
may touch cheek with such caress
that first petals open slow.
Now ensure her - and yourself –
that there is no other one
that deserves such attitude
under shining moon and sun
no one that compares to her.
But you have to say the truth
or you will feel painful thorn.
If you do, you’ll see delight
Beautiful as dusk and dawn
when the rose unlocks herself.
Ensnare the ears with kindness,
enmesh with care her splendor.
Cautions stroke her fears away!
Then may your fingers tender
detach the outer casing.
Coat the rose with water drops
from your lips – fresh summerkiss
over body, mind and soul.
Feel with beating heart the bliss
when the trembling bud unclench’s.
Shivering the petals spread
ample to receive delight.
Open are the calyx’s thighs
that entangled day and night
the straight erected carpel.
Categories:
carpel, allegory, caregiving, love, nature,
Form: Classicism