The Madness Of The Bee Poem by Mark Heathcote

Curvaceous white rose
how potently aromatic
it is to delve quite freely
one's passionate nose
tasting upon our tongue
the madness of the bee
who' sumptuously,
all summer long
dances in bliss with sultrier
honey-honed senses.
Sweet-harlot of the brier
give up your remonstrances
hold fast - that's all I acquire
just one single kiss
honeycomb upon my lips.
Arms wrapped around your bodice
trembling without remiss
till the sun and moon-ellipse
ah, the kiss - the kiss of bliss.