Her reply blushes,
apologetic for existing
beyond what her
back story projected
.
(probable destiny –
doormat, a yearbook
dilemma). From
inside those petals,
.
she can’t possibly
appreciate the
mystery and fragrance
that draws him in,
.
fly to honey. She
checks her nails,
boredom masking
terror, and another
.
one bites the dust.
She will add him
to the collection,
proof of purchase.
Meanwhile, Melody Muses... 
This delicate beauty; a honey trap?
A bee paradise!!
The photo is just beyond beautiful, Mel–if I ever get my novel done, seems like that would be a beautiful cover photo… I was following the poem, loving it–until the last stanza, where I lost you; so I’m feeling rather dull and dweebish.
She’s paying the price for her self-protectionist policies – her broken potential relationships are starting to add up. Her need to be safe is requiring her to give up possible happiness. Make sense??
Oooh, no wonder I was too blind to see it–that’s exactly what I’ve done…..
It’s hard to recognize and harder to make the mental shift to create new patterns. Uphill work, for sure!
And my cowardly response now, is, “Well, I’m too old for that anymore…” arrgghh
Never! Think Moses, girl…
Well, I dearly love Moses–but I ‘spect he might be gettin’ a little ripe by now…
Ha! Maybe so – but he was a ripe old age when he started his new career – so what’s good for the gander is good for the goose, right? 🙂
Maybe so….
Oh, a horror poem! LOL 🙂 Very cute.
🙂 Sometimes we need to let the honesty of reality out of the bottle. Life is a messy, wonderful, difficult, amazing process!
Reblogged this on By the Mighty Mumford and commented:
WATCH OUT FOR THIS FLOWER, HONEY!!!!!!