I’ve always looked for riches
the colour of gold catches my eye
sometimes so soft
or sharp
like a shard of glass
forever moving just out of my hands grasp
still there it is morning and night
flickering golden light
across my window
such tricks of the eye
for I could swim this golden liquid
pouring out like a lavish drink
intense my eyes drunk
and like silk wraps my mind
wearing me till the end of day
Rich in this golden light
In The Hive 
Makes one appreciate a natural daily event we take for granted. The beauty of this poem is how you become lost in it to also view what you write.
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