The Bee Loud Glade of death

The yellow striped torso caught the sun,

revealing the trembling tiny hairs

and fragile filigree wings working

with God to nurture nature, and so


the bee flew over the fence to

the fragile flowers opening to the sun, 

and heard the happy buzzing of harvest;

as he sipped sweetness of stamens and 


packed pollen baskets ensuring survival;

and banded bodies caked with yellow dust

feasted on people poisoned plants, and


Struggling back to a busy, booming base

grew the honeycomb for the winter’s food.

The six-sided cells filled with sweetness,

Bursting with new life, delighting  

the dancing queen. Til,


everyone of them sickened and died. 

Published by


margins are a great place sometimes because it is where change happens fastest but it is also a horrible place when we are stuck in them and grace is the moment when we can see that someone cares.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.