Garden Games

poem, poems, poetry, writing

A beautiful garden

Kissed with bitter-sweet pollen.

Colors:

Blue, yellow, and burgundy

Each insists the best honey.

They cannot fool this bee

Gathering pollen sickens me.

Drunk:

Inhaling the perfume

From a stunning red rose.

Whose crimson petals

Have begun to close.

Frosty:

Spring has left her

Riddled with thorn.

I now fly in circles,

Wings tattered and torn.

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