Leanne, This is your Temporary Gift 'till I Finish the Story :) *huggles* / strangest title ever
Rosemallows versus Bees
to Leanne, 17
The bees that, together,
in swarms, buzz and
plunge to booze nectar
from the flowers that croon,
deaf-chorus, Alas,
alas, they steal our water,
and, deaf-chorused, cry
Alas, alas, you rob us
to the bees, yellow-
cargoed round balls
whose gossamer
wings are more still, less
flurry when their beaks
swill and swill
still. They do not heed
the rosemallows' plea,
whose necks are bending in
the wind but not by it.
The bees, full
of nectar, rub the horizon's
lip as they fly away from
the flowers: rosemallows
bending in the wind
but not by it. Then they pass
a hand, and not
a window. Two circle
the hand and stitch
it; how they wobble
in silk-scarf loops
to the ground, full
of rosemallow nectar.
to Leanne, 17
The bees that, together,
in swarms, buzz and
plunge to booze nectar
from the flowers that croon,
deaf-chorus, Alas,
alas, they steal our water,
and, deaf-chorused, cry
Alas, alas, you rob us
to the bees, yellow-
cargoed round balls
whose gossamer
wings are more still, less
flurry when their beaks
swill and swill
still. They do not heed
the rosemallows' plea,
whose necks are bending in
the wind but not by it.
The bees, full
of nectar, rub the horizon's
lip as they fly away from
the flowers: rosemallows
bending in the wind
but not by it. Then they pass
a hand, and not
a window. Two circle
the hand and stitch
it; how they wobble
in silk-scarf loops
to the ground, full
of rosemallow nectar.