The Honey Pot Poem by jodde taylor

Attracted by fixtures,
of blazing sun, where the willow cried
he placed sweet wild flowers,
in between the corners of ones eye.

Raising himself to the avalanche,
of a cold hearts winter
no disguise, could hide his admiration,
he the bee...buzzing! buzzing!

A clever mind,
he did hold, above all else
his heart he bestowed,
upon her tears, he bleed his swoon.

There between the night,
and flexible stars
he portrayed himself,
with every bright simulation.

Colours of all wild natures,
played in melodies
perishing away, any thought of goodbye.

Possession, of a hearts desire,
dripped like honey
from the melting sunflowers
laid bare, his perfume gained a thousand sacrifices.

Trembling horizons,
filled the air, for a foreign soire
over and over he zipped and curled,
around each corner, placing new beginnings
at the dawn of her garden.

Hours of daylight, brought long slumbers,
rounded in various pretty numbers
wild red, wild blue, he even played the old kazoo!
within a small space of the world.

Love could inspire,
it found existence, even for a day
as the honey kept emptying sunlight
and he just kept buzzing! buzzing! ...