Touch Me Not Poem by George McConnell

Those little flowers in the Garden that tease the snails that crawl

across their tiny petals. Wanting more, they retract alowing for the

dampness and closing as the sun reflects its light. In Their refrain,

waiting for the moment to expand and open, wanting more vibration.

What beauty lies in wait for the the gentle touch, from one who's slow

and gentle movement would awaken its soft colorful display.