On The Madness Of Bees

I am awash in begonias
And honeysuckle rose
I am drunk on citrus
I am blind with the rhapsody
Of gardenia

Gardenia was her favorite flower
I had asked her
For her preference
And she said
That of all the flowers
In the world
That gardenia was her favorite
So I made sure to buy her some
For our first wedding anniversary
I was not familiar until then
With the scent of gardenia
Having had little exposure
To such pleasurable things
As scented flowers
Though I would often walk
Through the botanic garden
Like a tipsy Charlie Chaplin
Going from flower to flower
To discover their perfume
I knew how odd I looked
To those who watched my
Clumsy antics
But I did not care
I was doing research
I was in my laboratory
And I was intoxicated
With the wonders
Of the world
And after all
This was my garden
My very own portion
Of paradise
So it did not matter
How silly I may or may not
Have seemed
To those who may have had
More practical
Preoccupations in mind

To my delight and surprise
Gardenia was delicious
Like cold vanilla ice cream
On a hot summer’s day
Gardenia was sensual
As sensual as the
Love making
Of two wanton lovers
On a hot summer’s day
My love was a genius
To have picked
So magical a flower
As her heart’s very own
If only I could have known
I would have bought her
Her very own tropical island
Full of gardenia
And I would have
Understood her so much better
If only I could have known sooner
I would have been
So much more tender
So much more careful
I would have understood
So much better
How very special and precious
Was the gift of her love

If only I had been
Born a bee
Instead of just me

jhmarkowitz
Philadelphia, Pa. 2011