I called her my honey..
So sweet, so gentle and so warming.
She sticks to me but I don’t mind a second taste,
licking her from my fingers so she won’t stick to anyone other than me.
A simple spoonful of her was enough to cure my worst cold,
sometimes I would sneak one more just because.
Her shelf life could withstand decades, centuries –
Even when she began to settle, her sweetness never dulled.
She tasted of chill mornings and cool nights; the honey to my tea.
She topped off everything and anything, and somehow always brought it to life.
Slowly she drizzled a golden pattern over my world, sinking into my skin and complimenting my flavors ever so perfectly.
Honey, you are worth every bee sting.
My honey, you will forever be my sweet sensation.