Honeytrap-In Memory of Geoff Stevens

I have planted purple to please you

though the bells broke from their tower

and rolled across the petty patch,

now purple. I would a wood to let them range

but seven feet by twelve cannot contain

their wanderlust. Bees’ knees

tremble with longing to pack the pollen

in their pouches. There’s a buzz about

this garden. Ant on deck tracks crumbs

left by babes on the wood. Snail (male)

seeks, languidly, a love for slowest dancing.

Worm dives deeper where it’s chill

while woman, khaki clad on cushions green

could be a plant if not for fleet feet.

Purple sprouting broccoli is ripe to pick

but radishes and rhubarb beat that root

when sweet heat entreats a cooler plate

and shivering wine glugs plums to inner depths.

First published in Star Tips for Writers

 

 

 

 

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