Delicate flowers grow,
weeds strew among the grass.
I want to pick just a few..
Looking deeply at each fine bloom,
perched upon slim stalks anew.
I see a twinkle, a light, bright as the sun.
It is you I see, little one.
Purple and white floods the eyes.
Petals selected and delicately pulled,
only the finest will do.
Into a tiny bouquet they twist,
with a poetic notion, I hand you this.
Out of love, out of respect.
I'm forever tangled within your tiny web.