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“She loves me, she loves me not”
Petal by small white petal I ask
of this delicate bloom I now hold in my hand
Yellow face peering up at me as if it wants to answer
in only a way that will make me happy
“She loves me, she loves me not”
But does it know the answer I seek,
for I do want her to love me, like she loves the flowers,
the ocean and sipping tea by twilight music
filling the tree lined silhouettes with melodies of enchantment
“She loves me, she loves me not”
Two more petals fall to the ground,
creating elongated oval patterns about my feet
like ivory snow flakes flittering in the sun
staring up at me with questions of their own
“She loves me, she loves me not”
Maybe I will whisper my desires,
allowing them to flow on the wind,
absorbed by nature, dispersed upon the beauty
in hopes this earthly decoration might understand
“She loves me, she loves me not”
As nature offers her wonders, she too brings them
In perfectly presented symmetrical fashion
for I see there are only four petals remaining,
the count stays even
“She loves me, she loves me not”
Oh poor flower, shedding petals like tears
do they flood your core as they do my heart
fear not my petite friend, for I stand in a field
of your brothers and sisters
“She loves me, she loves me not”
I shall pick another tender bloom
to follow my quest again,
though unlike nature, I have no rules to follow
and I shall begin this time
*“She loves me not, she loves me”