You are the bees knees or like moths on the breeze,
Like a pretty hurricane caused by a butterfly's sneeze.
You are the dew on the tips of a daffodils hips,
Sweet small drips resting on caterpillar lips.
You are lush like moss and nearly twice as soft,
As mysterious as the gusts that keep samaras aloft.
You are all the best things that this spring will bring,
but if you think this sappy, then *******, you stink.