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Curly fringes
of yellow Roses
Nestled deep in Garden’s clutch
Tug insistent upon bumblebee noses
Teasing them in with temptress touch
Covert trade…
Golden pollen for golden nectar
In transaction to them known not as such
With siren song and no hint of hector
A touch of sweetness…but not too much
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This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem