Precious, pretty, fleeting.
Flitting butterfly, lifting
wings, too heavy.
One, two, three…
One, two, three…
the flower’s delighted
to be explored.
Colors, themselves,
adored or unnoticed.
Just that one spot, spotting
the prettiness in the pot;
the stems stand tall;
lantanas, an unsung song.
Silence in the flapping.
How can the breeze accommodate,
provide a zephyr, a zip, a zest,
unrest?
My eyes rest upon loveliness -
this fixed point; is the universe
such...
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