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Skye here. I know the rules.

Looks like we've got a poetry post.

Tight-closed flowers line the steps

Mute buds bowing on slender stems

Hushed in an echoing, twilit vastness

Poised and ready for the big day

But mute.

One bud finally takes the risk

Peeks its petals open

Sees an echoing empty vastness

As other buds lift their heads to look

At the ranks of blossoms set on steps

Waiting for that day.

One by one the white buds open

Look to the sky, or at least they look

Through the echoing empty vastness

Opening wide to sing a song of celebration

Fuzzy yellow throats a beacon to bees

Even though there are no bees inside

The echoing empty vastness.

Brisk steps, a human walks

Looks with dismay at the ranks of singing flowers

Sneezes. This won't do!

We cannot have all this pollen in here!

People are allergic!

I have to do something.

Snip, snip, snip.

The glorious golden voices are clipped away

Every single singing flower


As the human hums between fits of sneezing

Denying the lilies their voice.


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