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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.

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A poem by Tonny Wandella