bee dance on flower
pollinate super power
hot dog humping leg
The clock has struck.
It's way too late.
There are no thoughts left to pollinate.
The planet warms.
They've sealed their fate with
fires and storms, wars and hate.
It's way too late.
She’s so sweet,
I’m all I’m up in her nectar,
I eat up like Mr. Lecter.
Should I call or should I text her?
Next week she’s still running through my mind.
I guess possessed,
I wanna possess call her mine.
Chiropractor on speed dial I tend to break spines.
You have a spell over me love potion number nine.
Excuse me miss this ain’t my first time,
Fresh to death, birthed inside a hurst why?
Do I even bother confessing to these love crimes.
night good afternoon
a cunning zombie waddles
despite the crabgrass
pollinate flowers
a little, able bee eats
all of the nectar
4/23/19
Buzzing and busy
A honeybee is potent
His angry frenzy
Gently touching my flowers
Giant pollination king
Looming on the horizon
A flock of yellow jacket bees
Pollinating red coral rifts
Thirsting for the sea
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.