Honeysuckle Me

Oh, honeysuckle, Lonicera Tatarica, my lush, fecund beauty. You invade my senses like no man ever has.

Your nectar is sweet. Your scent, the very perfume of you, is heady, intoxicating, and filled with promise.

Like me, you’re wild and tough, a scrappy, stubborn survivor who can bloom and thrive in all seasons, if left to roam at will.

Pink, yellow, red, orange, the glory of your flowers beguiles the hummingbirds and butterflies that draw sustenance from you.

Bell-shaped, your blooms are as enticing as the Sirens at sea, but like any enchantress, you have a questionable heart.

Poison, just a little, taints the glistening seeds from which you spring, but your petals taste of sunshine and rain and a life fully lived.

When you cover me, penetrate my most secret recesses, when you wrap yourself around me like a heavenly shroud, I am sex incarnate.

© Sherry McGuinn, 2022. All Rights Reserved.