Sunday, September 29, 2013

Honey Sweet



Stories have to be told or they die, and when they die, we can't remember who we are or why we're here.

We sat in a honeyed truck
one sweet sticky summer
when more than bees hummmed
in the old south 1960s

an old story, new for a girl just fourteen;
a story older than hate-
love, love came first.

I had confused stories in my head
all but one- a story about a summer,
bees and a kiss.

I hummed that summer-
sweet tea, bees, me a girl named Lily
loved by Seasons and a sweet boy
who gave me my first kiss

in the old south 1960s,
a story older than hate.
Honey sheen, and gold beams shone
that summer a sweet boy
gave me my first kiss.




linked with Susie's Secret Life of Bees prompt.

18 comments:

  1. Love, love came first ~ Sweet as the first kiss ~ Happy Sunday ~

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  2. This has brought me all out in goosebumps. I don't know of a better way to compliment your writing than to say the effect was more than cerebral.

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    1. And Kerry, you know how to encourage a poet sincerely. Thank you for the high compliment. I had hoped this simple take would be felt.

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  3. Yes, young lady ... I felt your too. A blessing.

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  4. Reading with a smile! Ahhh... Thank you for a beautiful poem sharing lovely memories!

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  5. This stirs such memories in me...not only about a first kiss, but the first time hate tried to draw me in to siding with prejudice and I was filled with "love came first" and stood my ground to love my friend no matter the consequences.Thanks so much for taking part in the challenge!

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  6. Ah. Now I wish I didn't know the story. Or does knowing the story make that kiss all the sweeter?

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    1. Susan, don't fret. The kiss is a sub-plot. More to be had. Do read the book.

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    2. Oh, the book is a work of art, Susan -- SO many layers! My guess is you will sit down to read it and will end up putting all else aside until you finish it.. It is that kind of book.

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  7. ooohhh. the prettiness of this seeps in... the repetition helps. lovely. slight foreboding, but with this, i can stay with the kiss.

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  8. I read this too long ago to remember well... guess it is time for a reread. But, I remember enough to appreciate this lovely poem. This is as sweet as honey and warm as summer.

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  9. Kisses sweeter than strawberry wine, we lived among the reeds and Christine Rissi's, damn rusty tractor. love a compensation as much a distraction that we to build a garden must toil the ground... yes, I recall, but it is hard to when the vision was still not far away though we could not take it all in then deeply- our longing heart held firmly beyond distance.

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  10. love came first... across mental and other barriers...love that...what a warm and magical story..

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  11. Ah, yes, I remember the 1960s, and my first kiss. Later, but still in the 60s, I interviewed a beekeeper and met more bees than I ever expected to meet in one lifetime. It was fascinating, but the first kiss was sweeter.
    Thanks for the memories, and I intend to read the book, as you told Susan to do.
    K

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  12. What a lovely poem and tribute to the sweet power of love and a kiss. Something to savor.

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  13. This story affected me as much as the first time I read "To Kill a Mockingbird". I went out and purchased quite a few more books by this author. Fabulous poem - quite an honor for the book!

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  14. Oh, you captured this so well. Beautiful facet you've chosen to shine the light on!

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