Nectar
Our hands should fit like an unsolvable puzzle
With the missing piece hidden in our children’s future
Our eyes should be but a lovely sorrow
Cause love is blind to all but danger
A verbena’s nectar yet not as sweet
Still attracting an arousal from bumblebees
But a bee’s favorite honeycomb that's draining empty
Into a teacup of passion running cold
Next to a fire of eternal life
Did you see the youth of our past?
The wrinkles of fate and joy curse our faces
Yet my heart aches for your touch
Because love is not a rose
It's the thorns that make it real
This poem is about:
Our world