Wild flower sways in wild wind,
Wild flower twirls in a whirl wind,
And I am bee: a febrile one.
Her fragrance hurls me into a trance,
Still I buzz off to her for more.
A wild flower amidst turfs in a spiritless moor,
Her sparkle is a cheerful morning.
And her nectar tastes with vivid sweetness; resonance of her allure,
To rest on her radiant petals I want.
A poem by Tonny Wandella