You are the honey hidden in the comb;
And the fuzzy bee butts that buzz close by your ears.

You are the smell of honeysuckles;
And the candied memory of the aftertaste of its juices.

You are cheerful piano melodies, of chords that bop and swing;
And the pep when the pianist catches the rhythm.

You are all that is golden in the world.
Both soft and hidden;
And bold and salient.