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.
We dwell in form and that’s where we must transform,
by silencing thought and invoking God’s grace,
conjuring thus within, a benign bliss storm,
signalling we’re held by God in close embrace,
whereupon soma nectar begins to flow,
opening blocked pathways in staid stillness slow,
that as breath by breath, heightens our heart’s delight,
in slow motion we transmute as living light.
moon myrtle
a honeybee takes
the sweet bait
Contest: Favorite Things
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
Date of poem: 15th August, 2025
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A sky kiss on rose beauty,
long for bees in flight
to reach sumptuous nectar,
where rains blend with fright,
yet no sun to dry,
after many days of rain,
clouds still drape the sky.
gentle bee lights feeds
beside me as I am sighting
colorful floral
~
aromatic bud
enters flower and just sucks
the tasty nectar
07/14/25
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.2025©
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