Little flower, tears to shed upon its pedal, yellow, red,
reaching palms so wanting mellow.
Where bee and ant, in comfort settle.
Pollinate, capitulate and boil what the kettle thread.
Swiftly like a shadowed ghost, or nature’s calming graceful host.
As scent of colors calms you down.
And souls on fire swell to the soft moist petal and lightly boasts its beauty as its drinking roots resettle.
Should I pluck thee from the ground,
Or let u wander, safe and sound.
For in one place wonderous be,
Little flower grow where I\'ve found,
Your place of perfect harmony.