I've been quite busy of late,
Work and life got me in that state.
Poetry got put on hold for the time being,
But an observation and a chance encounter got the poet bleeding.
This little flower I saw standing strong and shining bright,
Smiling and dancing in the bright sunlight.
From a bud to blooming and bursting with energy,
This little yellow flower making use of the soil and water synergy.
Then came a day where a little worm came her way,
Caressed her delicate little petals and made her sway,
His words rang through her senses and made her petals flutter,
Little did she know his dark intentions were from the gutter.
He talked about the little details of her beauty,
This poor little thing fell for cutie patootie.
Then one day without any warning,
He started nipping at her petals after adorning.
She thought it was not intentional as he pleaded forgiveness,
But then he started nipping, biting and eating with swiftness.
She bore all the pain as he continued with filling his tummy,
She thought he would soon go back to being her lovesick dummy.
Down to the last leaf she was when the wind started blowing,
Off the worm flew , the wind his fat overgrown body overthrowing.
With time her beauty she restored to her past glory,
Took care and made sure she did not fall for the same story.
Along came a bee buzzing his way in,
With her every move his heart over n over she would win.
He tried to make conversation with this pretty little thing,
Tell her how he felt about her and got him buzzing.
Her scars grew red again from her past encounter,
Fearing this moment she had built walls around her.
Her response to this stranger was heartless and cold,
Any advances he'd make she'd curl into herself and enfold.
No matter how much he tried to convince her,
Her walls wouldn't budge, for him to deter.
All he wanted to do was be with her,
But at this point everything was so blur.
She had advanced in life far ahead,
Achieved what she dreamt of in nature's bed.
Confident and bold she had become in this time,
Love was all she was left to fear of that feeling sublime.
The bee continued and never gave up,
Every morning to her sweet face he wanted to wake up,
Seeing his stubbornness something changed within her that day,
A leap of faith she took the walls breaking away.
Had she not, she wouldn't really know,
A fruit she would transform into with a lovely glow.
Love has been given a bad name by a filthy few,
But with the right person it can be sweeter than honey dew.