Wednesday, March 12, 2008

bees and honey

honey, i'm sweet as melted butter
see the slippers on my bedroom floor
tossed, crisscrossed, cause i like my toes
all bare

brown from swimming in the old maid pond
rustling with the willows, fancying
summer kisses, or was i howling
to the moon

gone ragged memory tales, jimmy-jagged
made up tales, telling stories like my
daddy, passing through the windows
dark in night

ain't girls that pretty, slinky made of
twists and slopes, razzled in the hallway
mirror, spinning like a top, just to make me
sing

but words, all come and go, whispry
and know that i'm a liar, given to
confabulations, a hunter with my soft
feet, i am a caution

or says the honey to the bee

1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

i've found your blog by accident, but surely for my surprise; i should say, this poem must taste like honey indeed.

9:01 PM  

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