The flapper Lilies sway their cupped dresses
while the trumpeting Snapdragons
play their sweet jazz for the garden.
Sniff the magenta Echinacea's dewey scents
dripping sweat after dancing in the sun!
The insects crawl into the speakeasies
littered around the great Moss guarded wall.
They get drunk off of the delectable pollen
bootlegged across the vast floral city.
The Bees invest in rising honey stocks.
The busy middle class works round the clock
to boom their bull markets after the tirades,
after the harsh war against humankind.
The citizens know not of their future:
of the next duel across the pond or the
creation of the great mass destroyer.
Only the far extension of the Olive branch
could settle this anxious time of concern.
Posted in response to the challenge Wolf Kahn.