Lily in the tulip garden,

was flowing with the breeze,

and dancing in the rain,

for this moment to get seize.

Once there came a gardener,

epitome of gold,

who took care of lily,

like someone close so-called.

He molded her shrewedly,

with a little anger and praise,

sometimes with mind games,

and at times with distant gaze.

Likewise, lily started blooming,

slowly at her own pace,

and became wary of other flowers,

who can push her,

out of this mind-boggling race.

She can feel butterflies,

humming all around her petals,

will that gardener,

help her with his metals?

Will he run, to end her jitter?

Or she in his life is a sheer litter?