Treasure Island

Micheal Valencia

(The Twentieth of June, Nineteen Hundred and Eighty Nine / A Suburb of Los Angeles)

'My Honeysuckle Baby'


My honeysuckle, baby.
Baby, you’re my honeysuckle.
You’re my Honeysuckle Baby.
My Honeysuckle Baby, baby.
From the bush I pluck you,
Put your tart body to my lips,
And draw your sweetness in with my mouth.
My Honeysuckle Baby—that’s what you are.
The baby from whom I get delectable honey.
What fine sweetness through that nice honey.
Fine, fine sweetness, my Honeysuckle Baby.
The honey is you, baby.
The sweetness is yours, honey.
You’re my honey, but you share your sweetness.
And that’s why I keep going to the bush.
And sucking it in: your great sweetness…

Submitted: Friday, February 23, 2007
Edited: Saturday, January 22, 2011

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem ('My Honeysuckle Baby' by Micheal Valencia )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. Two Baldy Ladies, Neela Nath
  2. The Painter Rearranges the Mirrors (1415), Cole Swensen
  3. OUR STREETS, MOHAMMAD SKATI
  4. The Evolution of the Garden, Cole Swensen
  5. Dr Dalek, Stratis Havarti
  6. No legal bar, gajanan mishra
  7. Make believe, hasmukh amathalal
  8. Informed World, Tirupathi Chandrupatla
  9. Fading Dreams, Gillian Commerford
  10. an Ode to Cindy, Tim Labbe

Poem of the Day

poet George Gordon Byron

So we'll go no more a-roving
So late into the night,
Though the heart still be as loving,
And the moon still be as bright.

For the sword outwears its sheath,
...... Read complete »

 

Modern Poem

 

Member Poem

[Hata Bildir]