I’ve tasted the sweetest of lips—
plump, embedded in rare nectars.
The scent of your skin lingers on me:
a velvety, flawless cashmere of senses,
an aroma envious of exquisite flowers' perfumes.
I’ve tasted the sweetest of lips...
and the scar that was left in my soul.
Note: The background art was AI-assisted and curated solely to enhance the dark, somber mood of my original poem.
Contest: Pick-A-Title Vol. 59
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
My darling, you are to me,
What nectar is to a bee,
What soft sand is to the sea,
What ripe fruits are to a tree!
My love, our passion is hot,
We have what others may not,
You are my story and plot,
This love song is what we've got;
Dripping honey and sweetness,
You are my strength and weakness,
You perfect my completeness,
The measure of love's deepness;
You're my life's sugar and spice,
Everything that's bad and nice,
Summer's warmth and Winter's ice,
My beloved paradise;
I adore you and cherish,
Without you, I will perish,
Our devotion will flourish,
If we honour and nourish;
When the sea of life is rough,
We both will challenge the tough,
Overcome problems and stuff,
Together, we'll be enough;
May our love be strong always,
Our ardour burns like a blaze,
I'll love you all of my days,
You never cease to amaze;
My heart's a lock, you're the key,
Your affection sets me free,
My darling, you are to me,
What nectar is to a bee!
What nectar is to a bee -
Oh, such sweet divinity!
What warmth is to the live oak trees -
as they bow their limbs to the mighty breeze
What milkweed is to the Monarch butterfly
lest its caterpillar lack for nourishment and die
What shelter and food are to the birdling -
Lacking energia, it cannot grow nor can it sing
What rainfall is to the thirsting flowerbed
causing each bud to bloom and in joy lift its head
What the flowing stream is to the deer
that pants until he finds it near
What God’s breath is to life and empowerment
when wind that whispers His love is sent
What nectar is to the bee
is what sweet Jesus is to me.
You are red sun in my gray cloudy sky
Cheering me on despite blues in life
I look up and see your beautiful light
From gold glowing soul such a delight
As white wind beneath my brown wing
You carry cranberry heart love inspiring
Your yellow whimsical smile like spring
Give rise to sapphire songbirds that sing
You are as sweet as sap from green tree
Lime cure your laugh defeats melancholy
Moonlight carves path from Black Sea
That is teal tragic past rebirth’s dream
Your heart is a love flower warm opening
Even in rain shower you power positivity
I can look at you for hours inhaling peace
You empower what nectar is to a bee
Of nectar, I never sing.
I only beat my wings.
As long as I'm alive,
I gather nectar for the hive.
I toil for a bountiful nectar crop.
I work until I drop.
So the colony will thrive,
I do it for the hive.
Lo, I hear something strange.
My brain begins to change.
It is a flower's voice.
She tells me I have choice.
I never lived until
I discovered I have free will.
Now, in nectar, I rejoice,
knowing I have choice.
What Nectar is to a Bee ?
" Its drinking desire must be !"
Invitation from bloom : Bee sips in glee.
Abloom blossom to greet
bee , offering nectar as treat
to meet its appetite.
Flower and bee ! Mutual : Complementary :
Both are comfortable in floral territory.
As prime drink, bee sips nectar.
Pollen sticking to bee in flowery sector
initiating pollination at random :
Flowery wisdom !
.
Flower and bee ! Made for each other.
Nectar as bond to one another.
The Bushy Creek Spring Makers Market is the call
Poetry and bee motels selling on our stall
busking in daylight
fireside songs at night
Camped out for two days we're gonna have a ball
Call them bee motels cause we don't drink alcohol
different native bees are sealing up a hole
young ones will hatch out
adults will buzz about
Collect pollen and nectar in nature that's their role
Buttercups withered outside my door,
their stems split dry—
blood leaks anyway,
like this is how it happens.
Every step cracks the glass,
it keeps breaking, slowly,
what spills out—
rain,
my eyes.
Maybe the answer isn’t me—
with the one who refused the ring.
How am I even crying today—
because there’s enough grief, or maybe
because I can’t grow roses.
I watch the lights go out; there is
no one in the house, the chance already gone,
“tant pis,” then.
Who even wants the formula—
to initiate, comply, and carry it all,
as if it takes courage just to care
for her body, her breathing, her eyes.
I practised courage
in rooms that do not exist;
dust knows the lines well.
So, I guess they mean it when they say
“A rolling stone gathers no moss.”
“Stay still,” they say.
Nectar from too many flowers has given her
a halo around her head, a radiance
clinging to her skin—
is that intoxicating—
or just carnal desire,
overused?
A single white rose,
stark against the scar,
left on a plinth—
pale,
pierced,
and pared.
Air drips with heavy dew—
a heady sip,
thick nectar stung by wind,
a bitter elixir on the tongue.
The faint decay of autumn bloom rises.
Petals—
crushed,
capsized on iron.
Ensnared.
Entombed.
Rusting deep in the split stone—
iron teeth gripping the grim root.
Under the rust,
a secret scarlet pulse.
White thorns wake,
weaving through the wreckage.
Wild shoots shatter the cage,
rising—
raw,
radiant,
and reborn.
For deep under the bitter stone,
beneath the winter's heavy blow,
lies the silent, secret seed.
It waits for the solstice's soft sovereign warmth,
to wake,
to break,
and build the bloom anew.
peacock butterfly
gathering precious nectar
~ suburban gardens
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
“I drink poetry like champagne in Timelessness, purifying me, strengthening me, calming me…” Poet
Fear not to seed dismantling of Time
as fairies jingle to eternal rhyme
relay questions to angelic billies
surrender thorned horn as muted chime
Delightful drum rolls voice verses frilly
listen lingering to lyrics silly
fingering silky hair, smooth tulip neck
frequency of name will be moon's tilly ~
Fear not to transmute hot tears that wreck
soothing away of niggly grains of speck
tinkle brass keys in freedom's pearly waves
gliding Spirit’s sanguine undying beck
Hail now, splendid maids with cute sterling knaves
let poems bring sleep in dream cosy caves
ache not for peeps or smooth ebony cheeks
drink pomegranates' nectar, leaving raves !
______———_______________________
Standard Contest : A Beautiful Rubaiyat
Sponsor : Constance la France
Feb. 26 : 2nd Placement
____________________________
Its the way your eyes speak
A silent language only we know
Its the way the stillness of your body
Eases the trembling of mine
Its the way you hold my hand like a cherished photo
that you forgot existed
Its the way the walls know your name
In every room
Its the way your lips taste like sweet nectar
On my tongue
Its the way even the sun is envious
Of your light, always burning
Its the way your feet kiss the earth,
with every step beauty blooms
Its the way I know
No matter what you do
I'll trust you in the aftermath
A bee went to collect nectar; to take back to the hive..
he went back there with nothing, they didn't let him back inside,
They sent him back to work again, to have another try,
because the nectar is so precious! It makes the hunny for the hive!
Nectar
With brittle chips
Of your juicy lips
You embalm my mouth
With moist touch
Of your floral leaves
With the hot seal
Of the honey bee
In this smoldering
Of crispy sugary relief
Hidden in shadow of belief
The incessant would cease
If grains of truth were to shatter
Those roaring shock waves
Would swallow up the chatter
Those tense clouds
The rumbling drums
Of fierce doubts
With gracious
Exquisite clouts
*Pilgrimage in Darkness*
I walked through countless paths
Worn down by memories
Each footprint is a spiritual guide
Like a fleeting ray of light
Disappearing with moment's grace
In search of the enlightened mind
Through the darkest of nights
Stumbling upon the various folds of the Earth
To be enveloped in the dark
Victory— a distant thought
Covered by the path of failure
And the thousand needles of destiny
I felt upon nimble feet
I am starved and parched
Deprived of the feeling of hope
Illusion plagued my mind
But only a holy light restored it
Like an endless dream
I wander on
Through thick and thin
'Til my feet are torn
At last we are here!
At the peak of human life!
The nectar of peace upon my throat
As the seed of wisdom took root.
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