Those Delicate Flowers
I thought of those flowers
They look so delicate
Vulnerable
Left in the rain, cold and scorching sun
They will not last long, I thought.
But I was wrong
They, the orchids, the petunias
And even the grass flowers
Weather and smile
Some times better than me
I looked at those beautiful flowers
They look so innocent
Like a sculpture made to perfection
I thought
They may not be interested in passion
Desires and dreams and touch
But lie there like a canvas
For the bees, butterflies to paint.
But I was wrong again
They, the jasmines, the lotuses
And evening prime roses
Clasp the bees, butterflies
Tightly to their bosoms
Drugging them with pollens
And making them zombies
To visit them again and again.
((*.*))
May 19, 1997
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