© 2020 Barbara Grace Lake
A tiny fuzzy creature’s
Yellow striping warns
She’s busily impelled
Hovering, buzzing
Now alight, now in flight
Gently gathers, sharply fends
A life of servitude
Ne’er bound to us
Her pollen’s meant
For honey only
Cultured to sustain
Inchoate bees
Marauders dare devour
Hive’s golden hoard
Must pay a fearful price
In painful stings that last for days
But for the bee
Her sting’s her death
To gather pollen
And defend
It is her life
June 2, 2020 at 8:20 pm
beautiful Barbara…….we so blessed by bees.
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June 8, 2020 at 7:22 pm
Dear Barbara, as eloquent as nature and all its wonderful warmth and glory. Exquisitely written, my friend. Blessings. I hope you’re safe and well.
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June 8, 2020 at 11:28 pm
You are gracious indeed with your praise, my good friend … you whom I consider the ultimate in poets. Thank you. And you, too, keep well.
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June 8, 2020 at 11:30 pm
Barbara, it is always a wonderful honor and pleasure to read your work. And, my sincerest thanks and appreciation, dear friend. Thank you.
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