Money Or Honey Comfort

Convenience blooms like money, So the high and mighty brags, but A garden watered fresh, with Honey bees sanctuary, and Hands that's been there, done that Souls once bruised, but Cared for like rising stars, Comfort comes in any color No complication No cunning, Just simplicity of humming. Each root in fertility of truth Spring forth Chasing frowns Like compassion Simmering frazzled heart beat; Each palm of hands, a Warm zephyr touch Temples clean of turmoil, turn to Feel the love from Source above Priceless - I've known such love So for everyone, Every living thing, Love suffice.