Poem of the Week #96

Honey and Peas

When we were younger
we shared with a bunny.
We offered a plateful
of green peas and honey.

We shared with a goat
who always said please
and cleaned up a plateful
of honey and peas.

Our tree was a flower
our flower, a star.
We sat in the clock
to wind up our car.

Our book was a good one
our shower was sunny.
Our table was laden
with green peas and honey.

Where have you vanished?
Where are your knees?
Do you still fill your plate
with honey and peas?

Do you talk with your hands?
Do you battle the stairs?
Do you pardon the tables,
waltz with the chairs?

Cook up a storm?
Squander your money?
Still grace your plate
with green peas and honey?

In five hundred years
when you fly with the bees,
will you come feed me
some honey and peas?

Lisa Vihos