This fiction is charged with infinite splendid colourful petals to proliferate their bunch of roses in a warming greenhouse around the gloomy sunbeam. On the awakening, daylight makes out the nature-filled appearance of the bees sticking to the lovely petals, wax away from the nectar for Honey - The very centre of the Honeycomb". "love is being each other petals to proliferate their bouquet of roses with a cup of romance on this sunrise for each Phase of a lifetime onto the garden". what a privileged turn? Yes, these rings of the little cup of romance.