Honey To the Bees
What did I ever do,
to deserve the blessing
of finding you?
I have done some rueful deeds,
brought the lowly,
to their knees,
so why still,
the honey, to the bees?
Memories of the past,
no need to trace,
It's here, in my eye's,
It's etched
on my face.
And yet,
I've found a door
never opened before,
feel so, so vunerable,
a sense, not known before.
Copyright © Ann Anderson | Year Posted 2008
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