RÓse blòssom RÉD BLÉD BLÉdius
insect toss’em to a distant radius
distracted by the critter’s crawl
as by sleight of hand ‘t was dè sting of thorn
that jettisoned the sly beetle’s downfall

Nearly healthy soil crumbs’ surfaces
clinging on memories of mist and droplets
of clouds confused and dampened to dew
tentacles wiggled with a weary whisker
or eyelash laid shed ‘n’ aged nearby

flowers as with snifter stems elongating calls
for intimacy and increased sense where tingly
feelings end in pain bellow the bubbly bloomy bouquet
testing roving noses and fidgeting fingertips
to eagerly miss crawlers ‘n’ prickles

with squeamish stomachs as creeping of sliding creatures
sounding an Ur alert for the gardened self to gush a blurt
as a burp releasing anciently held fears and tightness
“aaah,” relaxes the beetle to a sigh:
“sounds good”

                                  —animasuri’24