pluck me not

the flower pleads on

a spring dawn--

tulips

embracing silence

mischievous morning rain

no flickering lights

poetic souls

ready to flash...

fragrance

spreading all around

scents of poetry..

spring flowers
dominate
the drenching
sorrows of
 autumn twilight..

hiding behind
the autumn grass
the moon sings
welcome songs
to delightful spring.

her organic lips
do they taste
differently
and distinctively
to my inorganic soul?