Flowers are meant to fruit
Nipping in the bud to abate
To boast a fragrance
Evidence of a sprightly existence
With a sweet heart of nectar
Calling birdies and worker bees to supper
Of silky soft petals and fragility
Of shapes sizes disposition and variety
Of graceful patterns hearty color and beauty
Some born on thorn and poison
Some gentle to touch,glad to behold
Always looking forward to bloom
Always dreading the imminent and inevitable droop
The arms of the lucky lady to grace
Graves and epitaphs to be their final place
Gladdening hearts at holy matrimonies
However mean, beauty remains
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