Jack L., IA: Rose Bee / Easement

IOWA PRISON WRITING PROJECT


ROSE BEE
JACK L, IOWA


With’r’d roses: stems and thorns— 
The kill of colour bloom; 
Kiss’d no more by loving bees 
That swoon’d in their perfurme.  

Ev’ry autumn, wilt and die— 
Death doth claim it all. 
Come the spring they bloom anew, 
Sending bees that fragrant call. 

My wint’r has been long, 
The wilting’s been severe— 
A gard’n bed in Erebus, 
No flow’rs seeded there. 

But if eer a new spring dawns: 
Were I to bloom anew, 
And could still draw bee to wing— 
I hope that loving bee is you.  

 


 

EASEMENT 

If you’ll grant me squatter’s rights 
To an acreage of your heart, 
I promise to grow flowers 
Of every color, shape and size, 
‘Til that heath of barren loneliness 
Becomes a fragrant prairie mead, 
Where you can always find me, 
Amidst the butterflies and hummingbirds, 
Reaching for your hand.  

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