The Scarlet and the Black

In the sea of green
And  emerald one
Stalk stood tall
Head-proud  it reached
Above  the ranks of
Grass,
Disdainful of the
Weeds'  tangle, haughty in its
Beauty it swayed lightly
In the breeze as if it knew
How   lovely it was, its
Head  of ruby petals preened
Softly in the light, one
Small flame
Thinking of scarlet
And  crimson
Rose  and
Inside its cup
A  bee alights
And  looks
Up  at this curved cave
Of  crimson soft
Petal arms reaching
Almost  to touch
Over  his furry head.
He  ponders as he rubs his legs,
Noise  muffled here,
Cocks  his head
And  the bee hears
The  flower's red
Red  beating
Very  near
Its fiery heart
Alive with
Crimson  rose and
Flame  within its thought
As  within its arms
Dusty  pollen
Waits  to be collected, spread,
It wants to
Propagate itself, be
Self-determining in
Its reason for
Being  is colour
Bright enough  to
Spear  the eye
A  fiash of
Red  in green
A  perfect form
And   a blackbird walking by.

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