Two bees that flutter on white flower's face
Are drawn as sights and smells intoxicate,
Assisting bloom's attempt to pollinate
On sticky grains their tiny legs encase
That help to transfer true genetic trace,
Allowing flowered plants to propagate.
These bees are born, in part, to instigate
A complex process that is commonplace.
But oh, what beauty lies in fabled flower!
Such petals are adorned in purest white.
The center blessed with brightest yellow spot.
Romantics ask if love's true "here and now" were
But answered with a petal's picking plight,
Declaring "Does she love me, love me not?"