Bees fly and we dive
Amongst blooms and try
Seeking treasure in stings
Pricking thumbs and bearing
Our war wounds and scratches
Without our lust, that delicious
Sticky yellow substance called
Honey
If you could shrink and shiver
Sink to the level of an ant
And with little feet and little hands
Clambour into their nest -
Bees' nest, their home, their hive
And watch out for those stings
And their tripping six feet should
Insects care to dance in the hope
In the scent of succulent honey
Into their lair deep inside
The honey smell lingering so deep
The sweetness overwhelming
All senses, til your tongue
Longs to taste the sweetness,
Your eyes long to see the long
Yellow sticky strands dangling
Tantalising to the touch,
Your hands which seems to tremble
To eat bunch after bunch of
Sweet sticky stuff ans gobble
Until your stomach cries out
For mercy and bloats like balloons
Such tempting sweetness
Such lovely sudection
Such a pity I hate honey
YOU ARE READING
Tears Of The Rose
PoetryA. Ton. Of. Random. Poems. Just warning you. The poem that inspired the title of this book: Tears of the Rose A rose Is a prickly thing Armed with barbed thorns Stinging like thousands of merciless Bees that hover protectively Over their prize. Rose...
