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Click hereA rose, unopened, succumbs to his song,
Bewitching for all its simplicity.
He waits for her answer and ere too long,
She bows to his whisper’d soliloquy.
“May I?” he asks of the innocent bloom
As he strokes her warm fluid velvetness,
She complies and releases a perfume,
A fragrant blend of timid willingness.
Once more, he caresses the sweet blossom
Now completely beguiled by his power,
And he draws ever near to her bosom,
Where he sips of her sweet secret nectar.
Thus sated, he then turns away to flee
Back to his hive and the warmth of honey.