Writing Prompt: Write About a Voice

So, in keeping with the “rules” of A Writer’s Book of Days, I ran with the first thing that popped in my head: “His voice was like honey.” I know, I know, I groaned when I first said it as well, but I went with it anyway. It turned into a poem, and I tried to keep it from being cheesy. But here it is in an early form. As of now, I don’t have a definite title. I’m thinking simply “Honey” or maybe “The Existence of Bees.” I don’t know. If you have something constructive to say, feel free to leave me a comment.

His voice was like honey.
The sound made me want
to be the wand –
to dip myself in his words,
to coat my mind
in his verbs,
his nouns,
his phonetic sounds –
to drizzle them in the air
so that everyone could hear
the sweetness –
not fabricated,
not calculated,
not orchestrated,
but simple,
natural,
magical.
When he stopped, my thumb ached
to sweep across his lips in case
a lingering trace
was left to taste.
And I had never been so pleased
about the existence of bees.

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Thoughts, anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

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