The Dripping Chimes across Millennia
Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem
Blond honeycomb and liquid amber drop
In every era, not just in our time
Or through lost 1950s days. The crop
Of orange blossom honey from the crime
Of robbing bees brings like gold treasure men
Have cherished from the time when poetry
Was sung from lyres and even further when
Blind seers sang beside the wine dark sea,
When Greeks and Trojans slaughtered with their spears.
My brothers carved the comb with heated knives
honey comb being sliced at an extractor images – Search Images
Go to one minute and 23 seconds to see the hot knife uncapping the honeycomb
And honey drops fell down like scalding tears
From Hector’s wife and other scalded wives.
Yet heated swords my brothers used to slice
The plunder made a bloodless sacrifice.