Growing up, As I dreamt of owning a pub Mum would sing a long sad ballad Lacking what his colleagues easily had. Dad still thinks his luck was bad, "I read of something called a cup of tea Only once did I also view the sea But all were pictures, the real I didn't see" Milk and honey Which I can easily get without money First from my dad's cattle Each day at least a full bottle The latter from deep of the forest fringes Kept by bees in their warm fridges All I needed was my focus to groove And an oily hive at night to brood Milk and honey Frequented by the rich in the city Brought home by mummy or daddy With just few drizzles in my tea Mum, add more my often plea Even without our blue band butter Honey served as cheese and sugar Milk and honey Affordable by all and sundry Depending on who you marry You either eat or go hungry In times of love or strife Derive a formula to stay alive Choose to weave your own beehive Forget your craft, ego and pride Sincerely be apt, go
It is our desire to poetically inspire, motivate, intrigue, inform and educate with fun and pun. Your delay in life should not put you to dismay. God takes time but He surely hears you and comes when it is your day.