Semi-Sweet

We're only sometimes semi-sweet—hmm. I wish we could encounter that honeybee- under the dappled shade of His apple tree. And meet only at the core—but alas, again. Autumn holds our goods in store, so we preserve- to sing like blossom trees, insatiable, wryly. Last out lengthy winters tentatively, In the springtime, eat our royal jelly reserve. Our nape feels cold fingers and harsh words. Their wintery blasts see windblown fruits fall. In the end, Good Season's returned my call. We're dipping into flowers with hummingbirds. We're sitting on mossy boughs, holding hands. Watching April clouds roll and dissipate I kiss her cheeks, and she blushes-red I expiate— I'll do things right at the core of her pangs.