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Oh to Be a Bumblebee.
(warning: might be somewhat offensive to some readers)
//-start of poem-\\
Oh to be a bumblebee
Oh to live beside a tree
Working with ten thousand others
Feeding all the hive’s old mothers
Lusting when new flowers bloom
Hoping they will open soon
Flying t’ward that open flower
Sticking stinger in for hours
Sucking sugar from its stem
Snagging pollen once again
Seeking yet another petal
(Pollinating is so subtle)
Buzzing back toward the hive
Making honey, still alive
Watching as the queens grow fat
Dodging when the hive goes “splat”
Seeing all the honey taken
(As the keeper makes his bacon)
Stinging some poor passerby
Stinging her might make me die
Oh to be a bumblebee
Lose my life 'cuz stinger’s free
\\-end of poem-//
by > Roamoff
composed Mar 2006.
submitted 01 Apr 2006.
Copyright © Mar 2006 by Roamoff.
Oh to Be a Bumblebee.
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I did not intend this poem to be erotic. I saw some bees outside my window and wrote about them. ("The birds and the bees" effect I suppose...)
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