" Touch me not" is a sensitive plant, that wilts or droops at the slightest touch on its leaves. So also that name is given in general to a very sensitive person too. Just like a very sensitive person draws into himself/herself when hurt, the touch me not leaves fold inwards and droop when touched or shaken defending themselves from harm and then after a few minutes they re-open.
As a child, and even now, touch me not is a plant that delights me, makes me smile whatever state of mind, and it has always created interest in me at the sensitivity of its leaves to human touch. It is a fascinating response, that ignites the curiosity of the mind. Some compare it to the response of a man at the touch of the opposite sex. Whatever it might be, it still fascinates me. I go looking for these plants and see its response at my touch. A perfect example of a stimulus, though it is a defense mechanism.
I used to wonder at the euphoria created at the sight of these plants. How a touch makes it shudder and fold the leaves, is something I used to compare to an unwanted talk or touch that could make me shudder from inside. It is still a plant that ignites a thought in my mind to ponder over.
As a child, and even now, touch me not is a plant that delights me, makes me smile whatever state of mind, and it has always created interest in me at the sensitivity of its leaves to human touch. It is a fascinating response, that ignites the curiosity of the mind. Some compare it to the response of a man at the touch of the opposite sex. Whatever it might be, it still fascinates me. I go looking for these plants and see its response at my touch. A perfect example of a stimulus, though it is a defense mechanism.
I used to wonder at the euphoria created at the sight of these plants. How a touch makes it shudder and fold the leaves, is something I used to compare to an unwanted talk or touch that could make me shudder from inside. It is still a plant that ignites a thought in my mind to ponder over.
"A sentient touch me not,
there is a space that none can perceive,
in the touch me not leaves,
its beauty is second to none,
though they wilt at the slightest touch,
sensitive as they may seem,
for they wrap arms around themselves,
with a sense of true longing.
Who says they have no feelings,
It is just a self defense.
It is just a self defense.
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