Bee

By Sion Psillides

As the bee awakens, the beginning of day does too.

For the bee fears no burden, for the bee does not feel blue.

The bee’s wings starts to buzz, the bee does not fuss.

Because the bee belongs with the blooming of a blossom.

As the bee leaves the hive, the bee follows the scent of honey.

The bee is still bubbly. Yet this job makes it no money.

The young flower beckons the bee over. Like a beacon of colour.

The bee beholding the beauty of the bright blue flower. As a bountiful bunch of buzzing bees join it.

From the beaches to buildings the bees will fill bags of pollen to the brim.

The bees beaming and bouncing beauteously join the rest of the hive Continuing on the journey for honey. 

I wish to bee free, free free! Yet I’m busy as a bee.

But these bees are humble, because that makes them a bee of bumble.

I cannot brainstorm a world in which bees are barren, because without the beloved bees, humanity would not be here!

For all of infinibee the bee’s reign shall remain and I shall behold its beauty, and I hope you can join me.

As night begins to beckon its broadcast, bees start to backtrack past the buildings and the beaches, and the blooming blossom of begonias: it returns to its honeycomb caves. 

The bee’s beaming as it brings back boundless barrels of pollen beauty. 

You may query, why bother? Because you, my friend, are looking at a beeliever.

Image by cocoparisienne from Pixabay