The Bee's of my Grandmum

Just simple memories combined together.

The Amber of the stone

resembles your love of warmth.

Like when lovers' arms are bedecked

with a beautiful treasure of pleasure's chest.

Yet everywhere I turn

I hear screams that frighten.

Mistaken children with bad

and depressing teachings.

I think that if only I could help

that it would be much better.

Just to know they understand

that live has it'd up's and down's.

"You never get what you want,"

or at least all the time.

My Grandmum always used to say,

"Life will be greener on other shore's."

I wish that throughout all these bad things

that I could help raise them.

Teach them of their past

and make them know what is write from wrong.

For today they act as devilish bugger's.

Only sweet when they have a plea.

Yet they need to know all the world

is not as sweet as the honey gathered by bee's.M

Author's Note

I am Irish and some of the terms are slang or dialect differences. Please excuse those and if you do not understand, please ask. ;) Thanks!

Reviews

[deeps]

I enjoyed this write here. I am part Irish myself.
I thought it flowed well and I understood it.