About My Poetry

 I have no silver-saddled horse to ride,
no inheritance to live on,
neither riches no real-estate --
a pot of honey is all I own.

A pot of honey
 red as fire!

My honey is my everything.

I guard
my riches and my real-estate
-- my honey pot, I mean --
from pests of every species,
Brother, just wait.
.
.

As long as I've got
honey in my pot,
bees will come to it
 from Timbuktu.
.
.

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