Oh bleak, beautiful December

A poem

Oh, bleak, beautiful December

How do we reach tomorrow?

Without bouncing off proud summer orbs

That pounced sunbeams, as kittens

How did warm bees conceive of venom?

When gentle tongues sought only nectar

Stronger blooms hold on, unwithered

Brittle stems house promise weaker

Chances, once sprinkled fields as daisies

Yellow headed strides of ‘pick me’

Trampled by each thud of dusk

They stamped petals with mud misery

Old drone is doused in ardent amber

Bottles perfumed with love’s prime

But dew best sparkles in the morning

All scent evaporates in time.