Article voiceover
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.
Bees for Ben🐝🐝🐝
Thank you Julie.