Dear Blossoms,
allow me:
As the bee
suckles,
so shall my tune
flatter you.
We have seen
the wind,
bleating between blows,
beating beyond bricks.
Favoured Blossoms,
by far the sweetest,
show us.
Turn and twist
the wind,
sing soft strokes,
soothe sensuous syrups.
Indulge us,
tire trees.
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