Honey, Money, and Poetry

The honey once said: "When you start making money Speak to me poetry." I say poetry pays It's forever therapist Like my very muse Deep within my being Love of words and and songs does ring We've calmed raging waves We make cozy most days I say, poetry is in the way I dress our bed It's in the way I clip unruly hairs From his beard and fully gray head It's in the way I kneel and give him warm baths The Source let us flow with love and art Poetry's terms of truth I've given What have I forsaken? Poetry's niche is rich Like fresh spices I've beheld And that, too, is final. *