This is the last of my alternating flower and bird photo poems. I suppose I could call them phoems. Thank you to those who hung in there until the end. I’ll spare you now and space out my posts a little more.
I love the heat, yet here I am,
With lolling tongue stuck out,
But please don’t take offense, madame,
I’m no ill-mannered lout.
I lure the bees in with my tongue,
They pollinate my throat,
And even though I’m still so young,
My beauty is of note.
