All is peaceful in your bed As you lay there sitting with a comforter in your lap and a bevy of pillows up your back, wreathing round your head Sweet visions you entice Wearing nothing ’cept a red handkerchief whose nettled florals shade your eyes and invite in a garden Dream of bright daylight My tender lips do gently suck, once each the gravity side of heaving breast, underneath and wander down circuitously in the lazy business of a bee frantically, humbly, bumbly, dallying Then that sweet–smelling bud is joyfully discovered Upon which our bee gingerly endeavors onto sacred ground Exploring about for what there is to take As legs press deeply into petal’s folds In response to his cantankerous march Our flower unveils herself in an expansive sigh Now the stamen is found and only nectar is wanted Oh, such a busy bee so adamant about it As flower trembles this way and that Supporting the little fellow At long last the pollen is taken up The flower is conscious of the loss In remembrance of such ruddy gifts The bee gathers every last bit And gently flies away Now the gardener saunters in For our flower must be parched well, we’ll drown her anyway It's so steamy at midday in burning summer The hose has been lying out in the sun all this time Though cold water runs from its base it will come out hot Careless lobs of water Thrash, thrash, in and out of the petals There, finally, the hose is fixed Oh, but the constant undulating pressure Has the gardener gone negligent? For a span of unendurable length, our fragile flower held down under violent, heedless protuberance shuddering in its overwhelming strength And suddenly, water gone; petals thoroughly soaked So much abuse for so innocent a flower and nowhere to go for safety For all the bittersweet torments she finds herself handled safely better off, even