Honeypot Of Gold Poem by Mark Heathcote

Oh, lucky, lucky me
I climbed a maple tree
and, found a sacred bee
making honey; just for me.

Omnipotent and gold breaking free of the shadow
Supreme Being you are an eternal summer star
you light the way that I and others must follow
that I and that lonelier moon with her guitar

will shadow, Supreme Being with a golden-sitar
you light the way, and all is, bathed in ash and fire
ah, oceans, rise, rise, rise, rise and-I am-baptised

Supreme Being your warmth is a deep, deep magnifier
you light the way so that others feel energised
just by your touch, more, and more humanised.

Oh, lucky, lucky me
I climbed a maple tree
and, found a sacred bee
making honey; just for me.