FLOWER POWER
The flower man did not still show up'Oh c'mon ,don't be a whimp. Grow up! He must be here anytime soon, just give him time till afternoon' She shut her song with her own tune
Calmed her mind to a little more wait, but seconds later bit the bait.Ran to him and questioned- 'why so late?'
'I am sorry there are no flowers to spare, the last ones are lying there. Cannot grow them anymore, I might have to start some new chore.''Why what happened to the money you made? Were you never enough paid?''It's not the money but the rising scale. I am alone and i am so frail. An extra pair of hands is welcome, but who would be so kind, so handsome?'
'Oh c'mon, I am largely free. And willing to go on a helping spree. You just have to let me your tricks know. Flowers i will reap and seeds i will sow''Well, can you help me another way? Make me food, while i keep the flowers from (becoming) hay? You working the field won't much yield. For it's more time that will give me dime''Yes why not, certainly. I can cut and cook and knead the dough. I don't promise excellence of taste although.'
Super happy they slapped a high-five, but did not deep in their happiness dive. Started pronto and kept merriment brief, whilst the dying flowers turned a new leaf.
The flower man recouped his pace, business scurried and reached new scale.Soon it started to get mundane. Lest one day the girl turned it again.In fumes she reigned into the office premise-'Do you think selling virtuously does not suffice?''I don't have time to understand your gibberish, care to separate the flowers from the rubbish?'You sell your flowers to dingy hotels?! Where women are in hiding, those flipped out motels? Creating bogus romance with petals, soaping them naked till the lust settles?!'Who gives you this lore about my trade? And how does it matter if the money is great? These motels you despise, pay the highest price. Do you know what pays for our feasts beyond plain rice'
She perched her head out, seeking knowledge. 'Why would motels pay more than others acknowledge?''For them the flower is not just 'pretty', it's smooth, it's arty and most times gritty. A prelude that makes a reader turn pages, hastens the lure that can else take ages. To some an aphrodisiac it seems, or an elixir if well-mixed with cream. When run on body with streaks and strokes, it's more than pretty what it can evoke'
'Oh! so a flower can mean many things. That's why those varying purse strings! Some are loosened just enough, while others remain open till it gets tough. So why don't we keep a keen eye, on not just hotels but all who buy? Who likes wet and who likes dry? Why observe just the hookers? A flower has many onlookers. Give me a few days and i will be back. With information as hell as crack.'
Days went by, the girl was late, the flower man was now long in wait. Just when the shop was closing for the day, the girl came hopping and had this to say- 'Do you know the old lady on Street Four, needs only two flowers,no less no more. A red rose and a marigold, is what she needs for her threshold. The girls on the block don't just need them for boys. A bouquet of flowers just makes them joyous. The boys like flowers for themselves too, but won't say it -cause not pink but blue is their hue. If someone tells them how it's okay, to feel rosy on a blue day, they too will line up in a long queue. You just have to tell them their color isn't only blue.'
'Surprised am I on what you learnt. This seat is yours, you have truly earned. You now know what works in each situation. Now let's price these petals per their specific occasion.It won't only be the hotels paying more, i can see money from even back doors. Thanks my child you are a blessing, you take over me while i spend time reminiscing.'
Elated with the new title, she wrote her a song and clapped its recital. Toiled and labored the role with all her life, so thick was her success, it couldn't be cut with a knife. To every flower she put a price. She knew a flower is not just pretty, for some it's cosy, for some it's gritty. 'Girls on Valentine's' sold for the most, while 'Boys with a ring' came a second too close. 'Flowers for prayer' were a little rare, cause they were washed and kept with extra care. $50 were for the 'Honeymooners', least priced were the 'Consoling Crooners'. She knew the tags to every flower- the ones that bloom and the ones that cower.
Such adept she had become, that when the guy she adored to her shop had come. And had suddenly plucked a rose to her face, she yelled in prompt 'That'll be a diamond ring and an aisle walk of grace'
Foolish she was , but put the right price again. For they got married in the bargain. When her friends threw her the wedding shower, She raised a toast to the Flower Power.Original link
The flower man did not still show up'Oh c'mon ,don't be a whimp. Grow up! He must be here anytime soon, just give him time till afternoon' She shut her song with her own tune
Calmed her mind to a little more wait, but seconds later bit the bait.Ran to him and questioned- 'why so late?'
'I am sorry there are no flowers to spare, the last ones are lying there. Cannot grow them anymore, I might have to start some new chore.''Why what happened to the money you made? Were you never enough paid?''It's not the money but the rising scale. I am alone and i am so frail. An extra pair of hands is welcome, but who would be so kind, so handsome?'
'Oh c'mon, I am largely free. And willing to go on a helping spree. You just have to let me your tricks know. Flowers i will reap and seeds i will sow''Well, can you help me another way? Make me food, while i keep the flowers from (becoming) hay? You working the field won't much yield. For it's more time that will give me dime''Yes why not, certainly. I can cut and cook and knead the dough. I don't promise excellence of taste although.'
Super happy they slapped a high-five, but did not deep in their happiness dive. Started pronto and kept merriment brief, whilst the dying flowers turned a new leaf.
The flower man recouped his pace, business scurried and reached new scale.Soon it started to get mundane. Lest one day the girl turned it again.In fumes she reigned into the office premise-'Do you think selling virtuously does not suffice?''I don't have time to understand your gibberish, care to separate the flowers from the rubbish?'You sell your flowers to dingy hotels?! Where women are in hiding, those flipped out motels? Creating bogus romance with petals, soaping them naked till the lust settles?!'Who gives you this lore about my trade? And how does it matter if the money is great? These motels you despise, pay the highest price. Do you know what pays for our feasts beyond plain rice'
She perched her head out, seeking knowledge. 'Why would motels pay more than others acknowledge?''For them the flower is not just 'pretty', it's smooth, it's arty and most times gritty. A prelude that makes a reader turn pages, hastens the lure that can else take ages. To some an aphrodisiac it seems, or an elixir if well-mixed with cream. When run on body with streaks and strokes, it's more than pretty what it can evoke'
'Oh! so a flower can mean many things. That's why those varying purse strings! Some are loosened just enough, while others remain open till it gets tough. So why don't we keep a keen eye, on not just hotels but all who buy? Who likes wet and who likes dry? Why observe just the hookers? A flower has many onlookers. Give me a few days and i will be back. With information as hell as crack.'
Days went by, the girl was late, the flower man was now long in wait. Just when the shop was closing for the day, the girl came hopping and had this to say- 'Do you know the old lady on Street Four, needs only two flowers,no less no more. A red rose and a marigold, is what she needs for her threshold. The girls on the block don't just need them for boys. A bouquet of flowers just makes them joyous. The boys like flowers for themselves too, but won't say it -cause not pink but blue is their hue. If someone tells them how it's okay, to feel rosy on a blue day, they too will line up in a long queue. You just have to tell them their color isn't only blue.'
'Surprised am I on what you learnt. This seat is yours, you have truly earned. You now know what works in each situation. Now let's price these petals per their specific occasion.It won't only be the hotels paying more, i can see money from even back doors. Thanks my child you are a blessing, you take over me while i spend time reminiscing.'
Elated with the new title, she wrote her a song and clapped its recital. Toiled and labored the role with all her life, so thick was her success, it couldn't be cut with a knife. To every flower she put a price. She knew a flower is not just pretty, for some it's cosy, for some it's gritty. 'Girls on Valentine's' sold for the most, while 'Boys with a ring' came a second too close. 'Flowers for prayer' were a little rare, cause they were washed and kept with extra care. $50 were for the 'Honeymooners', least priced were the 'Consoling Crooners'. She knew the tags to every flower- the ones that bloom and the ones that cower.
Such adept she had become, that when the guy she adored to her shop had come. And had suddenly plucked a rose to her face, she yelled in prompt 'That'll be a diamond ring and an aisle walk of grace'
Foolish she was , but put the right price again. For they got married in the bargain. When her friends threw her the wedding shower, She raised a toast to the Flower Power.Original link
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