A flash of a flare. Blurred wings moving eagerly,

swiftly, swirling shapes, burnished sunbeams,

she’s a silhouette, moving from 

flower to flower, thorns don’t matter. 

Honey is always there, seeking it out – 

dipping into flowers, is the trick.

“Quick as a hummingbird, I wish I could be.

Like a flash of a flare, you could see me here

and there, but not everywhere”…

Birdlike and free. Imagine….

Happiness and love, at every flap of your wings.

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