The Dew Song

-
Sweet petals,
Why do you bloom?
Why part your lips?
Tempt mornings dew?

The moistness glistens, listens...
and then refracts.

Like a prism.
Scattering vibgyor,

Where there was just one white.
Of me,
entering, diffusing...
in you.

Oh! Violet,
Hello, red.

Can we now,
Stop this lousy rhyming?
And get to bed?
Of petals. 
Mettles.
But not nails.

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