It is summertime
the ivory petals bask in the sunlight as i sit in the garden.
I watch as the wind sways the stems back and forth-
Like a young girls curly locks.

I reach down to pluck one out of the warm soil,
Pull the petals one by one,
She love me,
she loves me not,
she loves me,
she loves me not,
she loves me.

And i love her too.