I asked

red tulip,

‘Who made you beautiful so much?’

It smiled, ‘Her delicate touch.’

I asked

the autumn dew,

‘Who placed diamond in you?’

‘Only her, and it is very true.’

I asked

the morning chill,

‘Who made you so mild?’

It warmed up, ‘Her cool eyelid.’

I asked

amaltas,

‘Who gave you this rhythm?’

It turned to me, ‘Her soothing rhyme.’

I asked

a butterfly,

‘who taught you naughty romance?’

It flew away saying, ‘Her cherubic face.’