Whispering sweet nothings, yet saying so much,
Telling us in soft perfumes, to look but not
touch,
In the vibrant finery, their mantled quiet words,
Unheard by mere man, but understood by all birds.
Petals embracing tight bud, in the new golden
dawn,
Tiny new Petals, quiet soft voices, about to
be born,
Petals softly unfurling, step by step, in floral
tiptoe,
Petals, their presence in still voices, letting
us know.
Making their entrance, dressed in their florid
display,
The petal´s sung arias, upon wafting breezes
that sway,
Dancing in warm sunbeams, with hearts now unfurled,
Their fragrant sweet voices, singing aloud to
the world.
When petals talk, they yearn merely for avid
sharp ears,
Mantled in smiles of the sun & raindrop´s
soft tears,
Heed their last whispers, as they drop in soft
sighing,
Petals, tell us in poetry, upon ground, as they´re
dying.
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