Whir of a bird, weightless thing,
Plucking away on scissor wings,
Suspended beauty, quivering and sleek,
You fly to each flower, and plant a peck on each cheek.
Propeller seed pollinator,
Is your heart likewise like a drum?
Do your wings beat in time?
Is it your blood that we hear hum?
What is all your flower-hopping for?
Are your affections so fleeting,
Or are you hoping to find more?
Although I hope you'll give me a try,
I fear your kiss will be not a lover's hello,
But a one-time's goodbye.