Flowerbed Tongue

After a week of poor budgeting,
she found the garden more mild,
tasting a tiny white rose budding,
she sampled one on her child.
The puddles were deep that day,
fine rain covered them like skin,
ultra violet beamed on their play.
On arrival home, she found a napkin,
from a party recently gone,
a present sampled therein.
A world full of flowers,
washed over her tongue,
reminding her of a kiss,
that had been lost for so long.