Many singles have gone with marriage
And will never return from the moon.
The few who return with Apollo, share stories of venom
Having lost much honey on the way.
The others who claim to be flowers
Are hooked, and can hardly produce honey.
Now, the buds who are growing to be flowers
Are already having their shoots courted
by finely dressed butterflies and ears buzzed
with wooing songs of the bees
Butterflies kiss flowers at dawn and leave
Bees kiss flowers at dusk and leave
Rain leaves its own salivas on their petals
Both night and day and withdraws.
But the sun which patiently looks on,
And does not kiss, wins the heart of a true flower.
(c) Blessing Alade