Golden nectar with a sting What is this so troubling thing That anvils fly and feathers fall Attacked in this most meagre hall Oh I'll admit to loving pillows But that last one would fell willows Love does not fast within me grow First seeds of respect do sow Friendship blooms with spring's lather Then bees explore and to them gather Within dark hives they collect With dark 'cantations of their sect Sometimes from that love might grow But it's not something I can know Focusing on the goal will lead To friendship fields gone to seed So I try to enjoy my time Smelling flowers like sweet wine
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This work is Copyright (c) Mike Fletcher 2006