Great perspective in this photo. It makes me want to write a poem about the molecular structure of the flower. Anyway as long as I'm here I will share an old one I wrote.

Original poem @mineopoly
Lovers glance as Azalea screams out, "touch me!!" Her beauty shines radiant. Her fuchsia penetrates even the dullest of spectacles. Her poignant fuchsia overshadows the dullness of the path. Vibrant in life she displays her splendor. Innocence and purity radiates as she blossoms from the bud. She is a flower!! Stigma and style have reached their full potential. Phytohormones, Auxins, ethylene, cytokinin, gibberelin stimulate her into maturity. The flower ripens and Azalea shouts, "come to me!" She is wanting for love. She is waiting to be touched and caressed. She desires gentle care for fragile is her existence. She calls out, “feed me!” for hungry is her soul. The fertile ground nourishes her life yet emptiness abounds. Her unquenchable desire is a black hole, an unfathomable cistern. They depths of the tips of her roots call out for stability and fulfillment. The whole structure of the plant supports her existence yet she calls out for more. Her shouts echo throughout the entire plant but it seems there is no one to answer.

The apis mellifera hovers above her buzzing and vibrating above her petals. All of her being is stimulated as the honey bee flies above her enjoying her sweet nectar and rubbing against her pollen. Azalea wanted that moment to last forever. All of her soul united in one ecstasy enjoying every part of the bees caress. The moment was like an eternity to her as he buzzed but just as fast as he came the honeybee was gone. It was a millisecond of fantasy and excitement never to be forgotten but never to return again. He was just another mellifera. Azalea was broken inside if a flower could cry she certainly would have reason to do so. She lost what could never be replaced. The melifera just went and left her. Wounded she wondered if she will ever love again. Azela definitely hated melliferas.

What was that gentle touch again? The memories stirred inside her. Danaus Plexxippus spread his wings around her. Dapper Dan with his leopard spots was so cool that no one could deny it. The monarch butterfly hovered over her landing in a gentle embrace. Dapper Dan was the king of the butterflies. He was no melifera and she knew it. She opened her pistols wide as Dapper Dan’s slow and meticulous penetration stimulated every auxin and gibberlin inside her. His touch was royal as a monarch and gentle and slow as the humblest servant. Calmness came over the whole flower penetrating through the stem and roots. A peace came upon her and satisfaction. She thought this is what I have been missing. My emptiness is fulfilled. Dapper Dan, “I love you!” Then Dapper Dan was gone. The monarch butterfly, the king of all butterflies, he would not see her again.

Her petals began to wither. Her existence is but a fleeting moment an ephemeral descension into potpourri. Who can touch her? The bubble bee is just another mellifera. The king of butterflies is just a vagrant in disguise. Azalea you are so vibrant in the radiance of fuchsia! Azalea you are so sweet and tender calling out for love! Your thirsts no one can quench. Your desires no one can fill. Just as your moment shines you fold sublime. Your beauty is ephemeral fleeting and falling. You are so delicate no one can touch. Your beauty fades. You return to where you came from. With him you are deeply satisfied. One moment of life is forever remembered, the moment of love. Never to be forgotten and captured in this memory lived out forever. Never lacking, never longing. The moment lasts forever, the moment of love.