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Picture Credits:
My Petals quiver for an instant as I wait patiently for the bee to pollinate me.
He circles around looking for the best place to land upon me.
I'm as open as I can be and as ready as I'll ever be.
My Pistol wet and slick; my Stigma swollen and bright
I'll bet he's never had such an invite!
My Stamen and Pollen are ripe with all their delight.
If I seep some of my juices, he would not be able to resist with all of his might.
OH how sweet I do smell today, it won't take him long to fight his need...
That he needs me as much as I need him, can't he see?
We both need each other to go on living in this world,
But truly how can he refuse when I stand here so unfurled!
He has to have me to feed and I to need him to reproduce.
I also get such pleasure from tasting my own nectar juice!
After all I do have the tools to do it myself,
But what fun is that to muster ones self?
Only a good gust of wind could come close to this;
The bee and I choose to reminisce;
Year after year we cortes and spur...
This is the delicate way that I prefer!
As he lands on my Anther and gathers my fertile powder,
I anticipate his tongue planting itself deep inside making me so much prouder.
My Stigma swells even greater as his wings try and keep him from being caught in my Style.
If such a fate where to find the bee it would be well worth while,
Then I would be pollinated all the way to my core.
I might even become a little greedy and insist on more.
This isn't supposed to be a pleasurable act,
But why not when this is all part of our bartering pact.
It would be a tragedy if he could not escape;
Taking his glorious life would be an unjustifiable rape.
He loves the flavorful sugary glaze covering my Stigma,
And yet as he feeds I wish for more of this sweet enigma.
Hopeful that he does not get caught in my sticky trap.
I close off my opening to him as to not damage our trade gap.
He is reluctant to finish up and grateful for the gesture.
He must leave now so I can mature.
The bee is ready to discharge our delightful joining now as am I.
Both of us satisfied and ready to say good-bye.
Him to fly away and carry a piece of me with him to devour,
And I to marvel at the wondrous lives I know have to empower.
My seeds are now conceived and I am a proud flower to be!
I have the bee to thank for all that he has given me!
Compared to a promise to keep on living and producing so he can feed... feels excessive,
But my seedlings and my pleasure are his precious gifts and seem quite impressive!
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