A women or a flower

A flower and a women

A flower pedal so soft and ultimately so innocent and sweet,

It’s beauty like a woman’s silhouette as she dances down the street.

There is no finer touch. Of angels, God or Man, than that of a women and a flower with

Both soft pedals and soft hands.

Of beauty and its power. Of glinting color of every wonder her hypnotic voice spoken upon the quiet hour as the warm wet rain gives life in a light wet shower.

Oh to compare the seed of innocence as it grows to her womanhood and flowers of her bloom.

Both flower and female brighten the darkness in the blackest of the rooms.

For if I had to chose of one or of the other. The choice then so impossible as they are the same and of no other. The women’s beauty hence has saved men from hell. The flower grew so tall and gave beauty to the day. A women on a man casts her magic spell. A flowers scent brings lovers, kissers and softer lips who don’t tell. For this untimely two, we doth so contemptuously compare. I dare to eat my cake. And sleep while I’m awake. For both a women and a flower true, I need to see and smell all through and through. So both of importance that one is no more than that of the other. They are both a gift of God and both represent the passion of a lover.