In a beautiful garden rare,
A little bumblebee frolicked with care.
Her eyes were always open wide,
Discovering lovely flowers with every stride.
She went to all and did the usual meet and greet,
Collecting nectar sometimes bitter sometimes sweet.
One day fluttering through a known corner,
Gazed upon the flowering Quince wrapped in strange armour.
Asked around about the captivating quince,
They asked her to stay away with a wince.
But the humble bee didn't judge a book by the cover,
Flew towards the Quince and started to hover.
The Quince was covered with plenty of thorns,
But had the sweet fragrance so she didn't bother about the small horns.
The shrub was happy with the tiny admirer,
Telling her anecdotes which caused such a furore.
Every time the bee flittered over,
Her wings were battered by the thorny armour.
The bee was going through her own problems,
Mentioned to the Quince that she will come after autumn.
But the Quince thought he was being abandoned,
Asked her to stay away and showered with thorn cannons.
She pleaded that wait till the flowers blossom,
Don't be scared and play possum.
Couldn't stay so she left with the promise,
Returned to see that the Quince had left the province.
She hurtled all around in scorching heat,
Hoping the Quince would finally meet.
But, Alas! the shrub had gone,
Leaving her to cry and moan.
Although had others who cheered her,
Everything appeared hazy and blur.
They told her she was warned before,
This had always been the Quince's lore.
But she knew what he and she talked about,
And knew his reason for bail out.
The Quince had a habit to hide,
Behind all the thorny pride.
The bee indeed was hurt from all the prickles,
But couldn't forget the moments of sparkles.
So dear Quince if you ever come back,
Remember the bee will stay even if it is pitch black.
~ Kanika Kaushal ✨ The Luminous Muse
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