In The Rose Bush

Flowers bloom
And I taste
The sweet juicy nectar,
Like biting into a ripe
Peach,
Juices flowing gracefully
Down my chin
As I lick the sweet prize
Off my chin.
The petals erupt
And quiver
Every molecule tingling
With a thousand
Tiny pulses
Electrifying a once
Petrified tree.
Bliss can exist as
Long as you tend
The garden correctly.