Lilacs, Calingulas, Roses galore. Pretty petals dancing and swaying in loving breezes on an open plain. Outstretched limbs with craning necks towards the sun. Lacey stems, French tips and beauty marks dotting silky suppolas. The aristocrat flora primping and priming themselves up for late night playfulness. Arching backs and sultry slips revealing stipled carpels bursting with that desire that comes upon the aged and wily debutantes. Fillies and flowers, furrowed brows of the old and wise as they peek upon the youthful dears who drop drabness for fancy and exuberance. La la trellis hedging all the coquettes.
The braggadocio and stamens come flouncing to the scene. Little capes flung carelessly about. Thrush of busy bee mentality, the prancers take the stage. A boxcar social with all the trimmings, gleeful tapers and evening papers. Alas, the dirty dance must begin. Not so dirty no, poifactly natural in a sinful little way. The bushy boys hip swing left and right, taking strolls by the parapet getting all a tizzy for the west side dynamo. Snap snap, slowdown showdown it seems to be. Many a suitor has come for the fragrant ladies of the hour. Ritzy show a no go, dueling buds the next finale as the sugar-stiff trade blows.
Falling petals, all astrew. Limp stalks blindly shuffling on the floor searching for last sight, last rites. Parts dangle all about. The dark days have come to shower on this bed. Death and slumber parting gifts; the fallen sink back into the earth never to rise again. Olly olly oxen free, awaiting ladies come out of hiding. Proven suitors are here for a taking, puffed up gruffs with erect intentions gliding cheerily along. Fallen comrades we salute thee but the seeds they must be sowed. Give anew to next generation copulation. Tender tremors and goosebumps between the leaves. Dew drops and wishes a favorite thing, tied in a bow for stork gift giving.