I want to tame

that feral child

living within

who often

sits on my tongue

or on those tapping fingers

and blurts out.

Shh, shh.

No hurt word child.

Be the lemon flower.

Play with the bees, sunbirds…

nestling in the flower-cup

sweetening their mouth.

That glint of light

in their eyes

is love, respect

for this white cup of petals.

Store nectar-words, dear child,

unfurl thy petals-


for your bees, sunbirds…..


Posted for Susan’s Midweek Motif ~ Respect @ Poets United