Honeysuckle World


Honeysuckle World
In my honeysuckle world the sweet scent of fragrant blossoms
Fills the air,
With each delicate flower plucked from the vine I can
Taste its wares,
Each blossom has its own essence, though each looks
Much the same,
But is there one different? One that I can call
By its own name?
This is a honeysuckle world and with each breeze they
Call out to me,
And I, like a hungry bee, take what I want but give them
What they need,
But even in a honeysuckle world I grow weary of
Constant flying,
And somewhere there grows a sweeter blossom I’ll taste
Before dying,
Yet in the meantime I’ll taste and touch and savor what
Each blossom gives to me,
For there are lots of honeysuckle in this world
And a lot of world to see.

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