Tulip Dust Poem by Keith Parsons

The frolicking of breezy-boy goes dancing by the tulips
He whirls around a girl-go-by and smells of her real essence
He’s freshly from the fields o’ flora, dusted by their parlance
With his hands he spreads their seeds dispersed by clouds of silence

Her lively lips and flower hips stand pouting in the garden
She’s waiting for a shower spore to coat her with his honor
With arms stretched out and face aglow she welcomes her new
meaning
Now she’s done the giving to a life of her own weaning