You may feel sweet and affectionate to the touch,
sporting so pungent and perfect a fragrance,
look inappropriately wild of color, heaven-hued,
in your pinkling glow of impish immaturity.
You may wink but an eye, lilting out
your childish humming in Spring-borne perfection,
and sit, alluring and still, batting new-soiled lashes
in expectation, summoning your lovers.
You may catch us staring and return a wink,
a petaled exhale, whimpered and whimsical,
breathing deep your own headiness,
oh silly girl, so boisterously quiet.
You may be all of this and more,
but to kiss your lips, folded and full,
is to kiss the longing lips of heaven.
It is God teasing us with a daffodil.
Picture found here