april indoors
Within the proprietor
butterflies flutter, kissing,
tickling an empty stomach.
Bees busily banter;
the unfortunate collectors
of thoughts-
swatted.
Catacombs,
supply next months cache of decor
adorning swift breaths of
fleurs et bonheur.
Enveloping the raw scent
of a poignant pear,
an open mind,
and an open mouth
serve as confidantes.
Bites of love
eternalize on tongues;
like juice from a mango,
trickles of escaped taste
linger on curved lips.
A sensory mind
flowers into an admonition,
reminding all that
an internal spring
remains
eternal.
This poem is about:
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: