The wax begonia makes a face at me,
thrusts up its crimson shiney forehead wide,
sticks out its full red tongue for all to see,
as if to say I've nothing here to hide.
Out juts its stringy yellow stamen-nose,
a pair of pinkish broad-stretched squinty eyes.
What fearsome feelings 'neath this face repose,
what thoughts behind its all-defiant guise?
The bold begonia's face veils mystery,
as if some personality lurks buried there.
Might not all pretty flowers' faces be
a secret mask to us all unaware?
Just as the human face like some black hole
can mute the love and beauty of our soul.
-- by Pete Voelz 2000
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