Melodic

Your voice is melodic,

the words, they frolic.

Chasing the mundane reality

away from me, if only rarely it be.

Low and soothing to my ears,

sort of like a bee, except there’s no fear.

With a touch of Southern drawl, but not

so thick and sugary sweet to be lacking thought.

Speak to me, forever, even if it is about what

seems to be nothing important.  Your mind is never in a rut

because your ideas constantly swim down to

your mouth from the river of intelligence, in your brain it runs through.

Like honey, it coats everything with a cloying drip,

distracting me from the real point, giving my heart a skip.

Pour it on me so that it will seep into my head right

into my eyes, so that it will cause me to see everything in your amber light.