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-
wait-
for your bees, sunbirds…..
Posted for Susan’s Midweek Motif ~ Respect @ Poets United
sumanar/lekha 