honey drizzle days

sticky pools of light, milky latte art on the back wall, and dollops of morning amber

don’t you love those honey drizzle days?

when the coffee is piping hot

and the steam turns sugar

into that golden glaze

on the honey drizzle spoon

those sun rays spilling honey puddles

across the sheets

the kind that pours like milky art over expresso

on the back wall—

sharp-edged shadow and sunlit stencil

sliding lower, slowly, like honey

and

the honey drizzles down

the trees outside

and

the grass floods

with a sticky sweetness

and

the water sparkles

through thick dollops of morning amber

don’t you love

those honey drizzle mornings

that steep into day

like hot afternoon tea?

those deep belly laughs

that feel like home;

that honey drizzle brew of your heart

melting into your soul

and you feel light as air

that honey drizzle golden 

glow of your skin

exposed outside the shade tree’s arms

that soften the sticky pool of light;

those salt beads—that run down

your temple like hot honey

when the sun’s at its height 

don’t you love

those honey drizzle evenings that pour

into night?

when you return to your honey pool bed

warmed by late afternoon light

and you fall asleep to that feeling

of sunshine lingering

in your veins

with your body so tired from a summer day

that you melt like honey into dreams

---

I miss writing. I’ve had my heart broken twice in less than six months. I go through waves of extreme happiness to be alive where I’m too happy to write (yes, it’s a thing) and feeling too heavy to face a new day where I don’t have the energy to write. This was a poem I wrote on a recent happy day when I could bring myself to write something. I sat outside in the morning sun and wrote about how the light shifts throughout the day. It felt like therapy.

Don’t be surprised if poetry is a new addition to my publication. I’ll write what my soul craves to write and I’ll share it because I’m a writer and that’s what we do—connect people through words of experience.

If the inspiration arises and my fingers can glide across a keyboard long enough to write an entire article, then I plan to share that too. I’ve been posting drafts from when I first started writing with passion on here and I had so much to say all at once, enough to have backups. Those are dwindling down, so poetry will be how I share myself in this era of my life.

I like writing poetry because it can express so many emotions in few words. And that’s what I need right now. I hope this closing did not take away from the happy poem above (go read it again). I used a poetry writing prompt from someone on Substack who posted a summer bucketlist, but I cannot remember that publication. If it was you that wrote “honey drizzle days” as a prompt or you know who it was, please let me know so I can tag them in my post.

Please write to me what you think about this piece. I am missing the community here on Substack. Share anything: what you love, what you hate, the typos or poor grammar, or what this poem made you feel. I will respond to the good and bad. I look forward to your reading of this and thank you all for being here.

With love,

L.L.