Honeycombed
His voice, like honey
and me the bee drawn to spring nectar,
summer sunflowers, garden yarrow, goldenrod,
and hazy afternoons
when sunlight gleams as refined amber,
dips, seemingly swoons at his voice as I do.
Honeycomb myself, wait; watch a blue iris sky
slide into candied lavender, caress saffron sunset
as it blinks and nods into fine faded blue linen,
long horizon all the while cradling anticipation
as droning suspends, faithful worker bee heads home,
wooing his Queen with hints of honey.
Coming home. I smile, tie yellow ribbon 'round my dress,
wait for his greeting; his harvest a tint of sweetness
upon my lips.
by Margaret Bednar, September 25, 2019
This is linked with "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Bits of Inspiration - The Colors in a Song" and "Poets United - Midweek Motif - Honey/Bee"
The colors the song below evokes in me are golds/yellows and a touch of blue. Comforting colors, loving colors (for me).
