Honey Days
Bees fly low across the grass,
Busy wings as hours pass.
Dipping deep in bloom and bud,
Fields are sweet and thick with mud.
Golden light and buzzing near,
Work goes on from far to near.
Tiny bodies never rest,
Building up a yellow nest.
Hives are humming in the shade,
Drips of honey slowly made.
Sticky fingers, jars in rows,
Warm and glowing as it goes.
Toast with butter, honey spread,
Morning sun above your head.
Simple things are best, they say,
Moments make a honey day.
About the Creator
♿ V+ Marie381Uk
Poetry has lived in me since childhood.
Ink spills the feelings words fear to say.
My poems heal, some haunt, all are pieces of me.
Stay and read please. Like&follow me. If my poetry touches your ♥️ maybe leave a small tip
#Marie381UkWrites
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