I close my eyes sometimes and smell those summery days long gone but such wonderful memories that seem so real still remembering one such time Helen dressed a lovely summer dress walking hand In hand over the back fields behind our house had my arm around her waist but naughty boy slap my on wrist decided to get adventurous lowering my hand on to Helen's bottom all a sudden I felt what was like an electric shock on taking my hand away there was an enormous honey bee right the middle of my hand I quickly brushed away and then had to remove the sting which was still pumping venom It had obviously been attracted to Helen's perfume but the moral of the story don't presume to much to soon
Naughty boy I was putting my hand in Helen's bottom and paid the price with a sting from huge honey bee
busy busy bee now you like it now you're running from- what are you running from? their standards wallpapered over your raw skin why do you wear it? you've never liked the color yellow you know you can't fly through water busy busy bee
Of late I've found myself drifting back to dreams to memories of my past to Where I feel safe from lives harsh realities And was thinking back to one of the very first times I walk out with Helen beautiful warm summers day walking the fields at the back of my home had my arm around her waist she had a very pretty summary dress on and her favourite perfume Estee Lauder Youth Dew feeling a bit adventures I slowly lowered my hand when I felt stinging session on quickly taking my hand away right the middle of my palm a huge honey bee I brushed the bee away and had returned home to remove the sting with tweezers I learned very Important message that day don't put your hand on a lady without her permission or you to may a sting from huge honey bee
Valuable lesson when first walking out with my sweetheart never put your hand a lady without seeking permission first
A humble bumble bee By the name of Timothy Flies friskily through the trees And sways smoothly with the breeze For the wisping winds of winter Are coming in a beat So he must flee to be free From the cold or he might freeze So he flies to someplace warm To a garden by the sea Where a humble bumble bee Can go to be a bee
I’m tired. I need to get out. This feeling drives me insane. It makes me tap. It makes me tap. It makes me...Useless. My worries follow me as I travel to the next exit from this reality. I could get out. See the world. Feel the grass. Smell the flowers. Stop and smell the flowers. Stop and smell the flowers.I miss the flowers. The gold I once bartered off of to the locals for a living. What keeps me going. What keeps me breathing. What keeps me on my feet. The air is crisp. It smells of artificial pine and truckstop pretzels. It once smelt of maple and marigolds. Suburbs. Cities. Countrysides. I miss it. I miss home. There are walls, but not organized. And there are no exits. No cells. I was a laborer turned prisoner when six walls became four. Tap… Tap… Buzz… Tap… Tap… Buzz… These aren’t the familiar vibrations I know. These are the walls failing to keep me confined. I can get out. I can return home. Thank you kind stranger for unrolling your car window.