The Bud by Mr. Bumble
This bud shines. She stands so tall
Mysticle, slender a cut above all
...
IT’S AN ITCH
It’s a bright sunny day. ‘Where shall we go? ’
‘For a walk? ’ ’No! ’ ‘A drive? ‘ No! ’ ‘The beach? ’ ‘ No! ’
...
Through the eyes of a vole (water rat)
Walking, seeing through eyes of the vole
Peep out from our world as if from their hole
...
Will the last installment be painful?
Will we ever be ready?
It’s all seems a trifle heady
...
The Bub By Mr. Bumble
The Bud by Mr. Bumble
This bud shines. She stands so tall
Mysticle, slender a cut above all
I'de fly around her everyday
I would stare but not stray
Amongst so many this Bud is mine
It’s just simply a small question of time
Buzz buzz every day, it’s Bud in my mind
Some day when ripe off will go that rind
No words needed. We love each other
Bud and I in the wind we both shudder
For sure this Bud will open one day
It will flower and I will be there come what may
As day is day and night is night
That day will come have no fright
Her petals will open. Ummm I wonder
What will her nectar taste like I ponder
Her petals will open to expose her flower
My tongue will probe to her inner chamber
Honey will need not be made, I know
For I am sure it will simply flow
Ho! My worldly God. I have her here
That day’s arrived, have I died? I can’t hear
This is surreal, I can’t focus, I can’t feel
It’s here, The Bud’s no more It’s for real
I stare in amazement, bewildered, I’m mesmerized
My mouth cracks a smile, I’ve arrived
My Bud’s de-robed in full nudity
No artist could capture such pure beauty
She dances in the wind with desire
Body arching, aching, swaying. She’s on fire
Her petals are perfect, peachy, rose and pink
At last exposed, urging, pleading me to drink
This moment I’ve so craved
I need no longer be behaved
Gently I probe the beautiful stigma
With it’s perfect pouting lips. This is acacia
Oh my word please let me to die.
Whilst I'm still on this High
Frank Mestre 2010