Poem: Bloated Wattle Buds – 07/07/20

Delicate wattle buds
hanging preciously
in the air,
framed by their yawning captor
who, with great regiment
keeps them together.
The picturesque scene
a corner-bound
introvert’s dream,
stems forcefully
held in Captor’s cavity,
like binding a spell,
there is intention,
this method has been
carefully crafted.
While one may initially
joyfully glance upon this
pleasing scene,
the controversial feature,
by us, the pollen is not meant
to be captured;
it is meant to roam free,
bloated balls of yellow,
tickling masses for striped bees
and pollination,
as they were intended,
not for them to be wrenched away,
stolen by a gardener’s gentle need to
grasp hold of beauty in order 
for it to be specifically seen.
But how was
the gardener to know?
The vivid yellow
drew the pollen
to her,
perhaps reminded by the 
patriotic nature
of yellow and green –
“our land is girt by sea”,
though, she should not
be held accountable for
anything other than
introducing the pollen’s
cruel captor to the bunch,
a vase an unworthy adversary
for bees which require
pollen like this,
to continue their
fervent collections.
The presence of the
buds begins to annoy me,
what, with their false bravado
and natural cheeriness,
I shan’t destroy this arrangement,
but I am considering
putting it away.
Out of sight and out of mind,
I release unto the hidden pollen
a welcome, famished swarm.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Image credit: Myself

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