What about the b
ees
That hover in the trees
And scout amongst the clover
Though spring is already over?
And what about the crow
Whose call is such a scold
To sparrows and the deer
And any passing near?
What about the spreading grape
Taking on a hilly shape
Hiding life within the ditch,
Threading a quilt, vine by stitch?
The beauty and the peril
Of life far gone from sterile
Calls me to its fold
Till a mosquito bites my nose.
–Shaun Perkins
Rural Oklahoma Museum of Poetry 
Shaun,
unless you are taking daily injections of haloperidol,
I would suggest you step back and consider where
you are going with your poetry
MM
Maybe it’s just something in my well water. Har!