© 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