Nature Moving

One only waxes poetic,
Recounting nature's perfect kinetics.
Uses only immaculate phrasing,
To emphasise how amazing,  
 
The stems, heavy hips.
The dropping of honey drips,
From the honeycomb,
That it's swaying whips.
 
The bee, hovers over, with power.
But gentle, goes into her flower.
The plosion of pollen.
What remains, the wind devours.
 
The cyrsos that conceals
A mirage that is real.
In flutters, her wings are spread,
A sensuous reveal
 
The Monarch, making love with The Monarch  
Their wings igniting an electric spark
Clasping for too short an eternity.
Before the twine disembark.
 
The cloacal kiss, comes quick, before the eyes.
Acquiescing for a moment, deferring her beauty, to the skies.
Somewhere, even now, her colors astound;
Two lovers, over which she flies.
 
Then, there is us, anchored to the soil.
Intertwined in inevitably, by invisible coil.
Traveling separate paths, always arriving at fate.
Mixing perfectly, oil, & oil.