I have no generations to succeed me so that I can be remembered
my name is Greek
and I am honey bee
and I bear many children
they are small drones buzzing in my head
they are my poems
I have written many
and let many of them fly off into
the air instead of
writing them down
I am no Mother to any mortal
I have no line to leave but words
no face to bear me resemblance
no one to remind the world
that I was here
except these lines of buzzing words
these droning lines
my name is Greek
my name means honey
I crave to make my meanings sometimes
sweet but more often than
not I offend
and I know too well that only a few of us
last the passage of time
the eons erase us
one day I will not even be a wrinkle
but if I could be a word or two
echoed in the air
a drone of something
yes
Copyright September 1. 2014
All Rights Are Reserved/Preserved By This Author
All Poetry/Prose/Rants/Ideas Are the Legal Property of this Writer
Meloo straight from her Tilt-a-World (copyright)
Melissa A Howells
I pay tribute to the AMERICAN WORKER today.
I do my best to buy second hand or American Made.
And to the Small Business Person. The Sole Enterpriser.
As someone who used to love wearing vintage clothing,
I looked for the UNION LABEL always first and foremost.
I liked the story the various stories the labels told.
