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Flower Voyeur

Poetry By: garyaitcho
Poetry


the beauty of flowers is reflected upon


Submitted:May 19, 2013    Reads: 9    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


8967838794_ccce352b8a.jpg

Brilliantly red stamen
wave towards me,
arranged spectacularly.

Subtle variations,
of colour and shape,
assault the senses.

Beckoning,
seducing,
enticing

the observer
to touch or s m e l l
this wondrous thing.

Eyes rove
around, across, back, into,
every aspect.

Beauty beholden to
every sense.

As if created
for this purpose,
for my
sensual pleasure.

for my
acute eyes,
subtley sublime
variations
in colour.


for my
sharp mind,
elusively elegant
interplays
of structure.

for my
inquisitive nose,
delicately deliberate
zephyrs
of perfurme.


appreciated through
my
senses and
my intellect,
a wondrous
incredulous, beauty.

Darwinian thoughts intrude,
flowers appeared,
before (anything)
like me,
well actually,
one hundred and forty
million
years
a
g
o.

Before anything
remotely
like
me.

Not for me,
then.
Not remotely
even possibly
for me
or my senses
or my intellect.
Or for
me.

This display
is not for me.
This wonder
is for
something someone
else.

Another
beholder is to
be seduced
enticed swooned
by colour
and structure.

No. Not for me.

I am just
a voyeur,
observing another's
seduction,
from
e
o
n
s
a g o.





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