In this labyrinth, I would be gladly-lost
Her composition steals my soul.
Whole again I dance beside her in permafrost
Plays my heart inside-out till I am, whole.
Her music is a dancing humming bee
It-hypnotizes me to wait for her sting
She wears gold splayed peacock earrings sultrier
Then the sun; plucking on her, mandolin.
Naked to her muse, her song is buttermilk
I am carried away to a honey garden
Where her ladle has poured on me to drink
I am consumed bathed without pardon.
I am drunk I am slowly amnestied
That is how I know I’ve been stupefied.
Did you enjoy the the artible “I Am Carried Away To A Honey Garden” from Mark Heathcote on OZOFE.COM? Do you know anyone who could enjoy it as much as you do? If so, don't hesitate to share this post to them and your other beloved ones.
Leave a Reply