THE LAUGH OF THE BEES
Swarming in with poisoned tips tucked
Nature’s vengeance dancing from
flower to flower,
no matter the color,
or the size,
They are the thieves of each unique
and I wonder,
Do they watch for the tulip to open toward the warmth of the sun?
Do they wait for a rose to display her heart proudly?
Do they time each moment precisely
The light of the sun is unconditional;
food for the flowers,
heat for the thieves,
and on those magical days,
when I am the Bells of Ireland,
hungry for the warmth of my Sun,
they swarm in and attack!
Posted on December 14, 2012, in Poetry and tagged attack, bees, Behavior, daily life, Eat, exposed, flowers, hiding, life, Literature, nature, Open, poetry, protection, safety, security, spring, sun, vengeance, Vindictive, writing. Bookmark the permalink. 20 Comments.