Gouache & Watercolor
12" x 18"
Knobby knees, that sprawl like trees.
Wrap around me, with the smallest of ease.
Buzzing, humming, and vibrating, please.
Please, let me dine with the honey bees.
The ones that gather from the ripe poppy fields.
Who's tincture is rich, but the smallest of yields.
A taste so saccharine that it burns my lips.
Who's value so precious, the world stands in eclipse.
It could be spent and cast, like a withered old husk.
So one last time, I might envelop the musk.
Of a satiating sense so familiar, but rare.
That it straightens my act, and curls my hair.
A life time of joy could never compare,
To a moment beneath that sweet golden snare.