O tiny honey bee

Untrammelled thy devotion

By mundane fears,

Like those distracting me.

Thou set'st thy course,

In undistracted motion

Toward the source

That keeps thy fellows free.

'Tis not for thee

The nectar that ye garner.

'Tis for a generation yet to be

And 'tis not thee

Nor any of thy nation,

Destroying any creature, any tree.

O humble honey bee

Not thou aggressing,

Defending but thy tree,

And thine own kind;

Opposing thou thief, hornet, wasp; addressing

Forthcoming winter needs,

'Gainst cold and wind.

Unselfish as thou be,

Thy children nursing,

Then in due course,

Departing from thy tree

In undivided loyalty

To thy Queen Mother,

The harvest gath'ring

God providest thee

For ordinary bees, they mate not,

Provide no young to propagate their kind.

And sacrificing yearly all possessions,

Fly off with Mother,

Leaving all behind.

Left also all their young,

And new young mother,

To start afresh,

And carry on the work

That never ends.

Poetry and Prose Archives

Len Baynes

23.03.06 Front Page

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