You, my honey suckle, with the yellow petal, the yellow trumpet vine, vigorous, heat loving and fine.
Your soft petal, as I touch you turn to metal.
Oh yellow petal, you’re as stiff as metal
As I sniff and savor, I see you have no flavor,
Even though you seem swollen, your anther’s got no pollen
Your pistil maybe a trap, its got a bad rap.
It feels like a stigma to even touch your stigma.
Is your Stamen a pollinator? It feels more like an alligator.
Your Seed, the very deed was a misfortune indeed.
As it Germinates, the world around, it eliminates.
In the spring your colors radiate,
Lovers stop by for a moment and then hesitate.
For in the garden is where you belong,
a yellow vine in their vase would be so wrong.
From the crowd you take a sneak peak, for the divine yellow ray is what you seek.
spreading your veins, as you dance with that tap root,
Showing the world your plumage and cunning bewildering shoot.
I always hesitate, coz I know your nectar is my bait.
The allergic reaction wanna make me exfoliate.
Your nectar is so deep, my Proboscis lacking, so far and out of reach.
You think I like your ovary but In reality it feels like Madame Bovary’s.
You crave romance and beauty
Your affair more like ecstatic duty
In the hands of a pedant you die of grief
From his dedicated ways, you will have no relief.
I mistook you for a vine, thought you might creep and swallow, forever leaving me hollow.
To late to realize, that my misery and pride, deceived my very eyes.
Your delicate buds
Is your Stem a cell coz a cell
In a cows stomach you will ruminate
Flower
Fruit
Leaves
Cuticle
Sepal
Receptacle
Embryo
As your Vine slithers up my body to my neck
My body withers;
In the spring
In your tender caress, lurks tremors and smells of duress.
Your pheromones reek of havoc,
You think I like your ovary, It feels like Madame Bovary’s.
You crave romance and beauty
Your affair more like ecstatic duty
In the hands of a pedant you die of grief
From his dedicated ways, you will have no relief.