Siesta Beneath the Clouds

A honeybee flits among a grove of trees
carelessly and free         from oak to elm
the trail it leaves behind a steady stream
of white. Close by, a bear sits on stump,
its arms wide open as if to hug the next
one willing. You grab my hand, stroke
my skin and tell me that you love me as
I roll over in the grass and kiss your lips.

~

Prompt Inspiration:
Poetry Jam~ Look to the Clouds