The Female Flower

I looked at the hair clip in my sweet heart's silky hairs fighting with winds that like the shining hairs attempting again and again to touch the rosy cheeks. I love those hairs scattered on my shoulders but when they scatter on her cheeks and crawl to her lips in a naughty mood I am jealous. I think I should redress her hairs so that they may fail to materialize their naught. But how? I should pluck a flower and while placing it tightly in the clips I should redress her hairs making it difficult for them to reach the coral lips. I extended my selfish hands to a bud just sprung in a flower. A flower, a model of delicacy, an art in pink color, an aromatic painting, a virgin wet in due drops, the petals shivering with fear to be plucked. I heard the flower's voice. No Sir, please don't pluck me. See the helpless green sepals not strong enough to obstruct you mighty hands I know thorns may fight for me but will surrender to you after justbringing a drop of blood on your fingers I shall feel guilty for that drop of blood. Do you also feel guilty, when you obstruct my natural life cycle. Look at the ovule in my ovary, It's dreaming to fuse a pollen grain in it. Look at my style it's excited Have you ever seen a teen aged girl after puberty? A blending of innocence, beauty and dreams! Look at my stigma. Have you ever seen that beautiful girl in a bikini at the beach? That innocent beautiful girl is designed to be loved and become a mother a creator. So I am, I am also beautiful I am also designed for pollination. Like that girl's womb my ovary will also carry an embryo. It will also be swollen as a fruit. Dear Sir, I am sure, instead of a flower in her hairs if my fruit you pluck and gift it to your sweetheart she will be more happy. She is also a female like me.