“Drenched in Honey”
There is a Honied Hallway
Lined with well worn wall paper,
And dusted with Cinnamon and
Sugar Crystals;
A Multitude of Broken Mirrors.
There,
I will drench the Walls
with Hand poured Honey;
Spiced and flecked with
Pink Mountain Salt and
Cracked Pepper;
Soothed with Lavender
and a smattering of velvet-soft Roses;
Protected by the Hawthorne and Sage.
It is a Buzzing kind of place
for the Bees and Butterflies
to Flirt among the Roses
. .. . .. . .. . .. . .. . .. .
It is in the In-Between
.. . .. . .. . .. . .. . .. .
Near the Blackberry Brambles
And the Rosemary Bushes,
A safe Harbor lies there for ‘She’
to rest Her hoarse throat;
Her weathered and weary Song.
Naturally being bound by
the Moon’s Tide,
It is a Haven for the Witch
and the Crone;
The Center Divide
Between
Nectar and Bone.
A Frozen moment for
the Muse
to move freely;
A still image in Transition:
A slow waltz
A thing alive
A Sanctuary drenched in Honey;
In rhythm with wild abandon
. .. . .. . .. . .. . .. . .. .
- Wicked Lovely Poetry
@Fish Hopper, Monterey: 08/02/22