Poems ✍️

A solitary dropp of chlorophyll
ran down, in one small rivulet her leg,
the sun had worked its magic in an overkill
and photosynthesis had warmed the oval egg.
It was the colour that confused at first,
all fungus and spermatozoa are
quite lilywhite and do possess a thirst,
and moth come to the light show from afar.
All moths obey the simple Rule of Seven,
they fly into the great inferno just to lick
if they get fried they may remain in seventh Heaven
and if they don't they'll sample nectar that will stick.