Velvet-like violet
erupts
in a riot
on miniscule
white canvases
harp-like;
focused at
a bunch of seeds.
All trouble
to no avail,
one day the bee will come
and take it all away.

Side Note: This poem was selected among the top sixty in the Binnacle Ultra Short Poetry Contest. The seem to have gotten around 750 entries, so I am beginning to think this can't be too bad. Not sure if the selection means anything much, but I feel vaguely happy