day By Day

A little eye not made by man.
All woman seem to have.
Available to none our honey bees.
Clinging to my window butterflies.

If only screens were made back then,
rewound beyond tomorrow comes.
Voices heard inside my head they say.
Honey sweet the bread is made today.




e.d.

by James McLain

Comments (2)

Lovely to read. Nice play on words. Thank you.
a good write. enjoyed the read butterflies are my favorite