Desert sun falls on skin
With a heat
As heavy as warm honey.
Desert light incandescent
Atop the hills
Bright with yesterday’s snow.
The storm that blew yellow
Leaves like ocean waves,
But a faint wet scent in the air.
Please leave a comment with your first 50 words on the topic “honey.”
When I was a child, my dad learned how to keep bees from an older man he worked with on the railroad. The hive was back behind the grape arbors at the property line of our home in Toledo and my sister and were warned to stay away from it. The threat of bee stings worked. The reward was fresh from the comb honey for our toast in the morning! Theres nothing quite like it!!!!
I loved to spend the night at my friend Maria’s house. In the morning, her mother would prepare fresh tortillas and beans — and just before breakfast was served, her father would come in, smiling, carrying figs warm from their tree and golden honey that dripped from its comb. Heaven.