Is it wrong to feel
it all unfold
to want my tongue to peel
off the words that have been foretold
to let my chest burst open
feel the nectar of flowers all find their place within
My body's nothing more than a token
caught in darkness for far too long my lively swarm has been

And oh, the misery
I can't let them out
The only bliss, you see
is when the humming isn't so loud
But today my ears can't take the noise
my body aches, its been holding and breaking
I thought somewhere in all that buzzing I heard a voice
But I'm afraid I'm just anothers nest in the making

In my dreams I see my bees leaving
they all fly away
and I can't blame the spider for weaving
turning this hive into her own flowery array
Soon this place might as well be forgotten
for I know nothing about actual flowers
and they will all be rotten
and there over my lost mind an old tree towers

This tree will be my grave
I shall be buried alive
til something may save
the leftovers of my overgrown heart, this bee hive

Oh my dear bumble bee
She said as she caressed
her soft honey colored hair.

Stay humble
through your flight so high.
Emerge with a special glee
Of bustling-buzzing excitement.

Let your golden stripped wings
Carry you to scope lands for enchantment.
To collect those dusty pollen
and transfigure them to honey
for you and others.

A honey comb of a heart
Resides in you my dear
So allow the honey to drip from your tongue.

And when science tries to prove
With their theories and mathematical proportions
that you can not fly high
Let them taste the sweetness
Of your hustle
and the sight of your flight.

I am a little worker bee,
Who fumbles while she works,
And bears the weight of her duty,
Until her wings are hurt.

Her house thinks her a stranger,
Her uniforms a smile,
She doesn’t see the danger,
While she walks the extra mile.

Her eyes are purple ivory,
As her night knows little sleep,
Though her stomach may be empty,
She cannot seem to eat.

She knows that she is dying,
But still she carries on,
And her wings will keep on flying,
Long after she is gone.

She danced with others,
with no shame, only laughter,
Elizabeth was her name,
and she had eyes of flame.

Her golden head was beyond the beauty of the Sun,
yet her skin was paler than the Moon,
and she signed the perfect tune.

She lived alone, deep amidst the trees,
her friends were the animals, especially the bees.

Nothing could compare her beauty because she wasn't a human,
yet an angel who fell from the sky,
a gift to all beings that walk the Earth and those who sing her lullaby.

A bee notices nothing of the beauty the flower it tends.
It has not mended
What it can offer ... What it can bring
The life it can save or take
A flower notices everything of the bee that lands.

I won’t bother much, my friend
Whether it’s a secret treasure hunt,
Pilgrimage to the mountain shrine
Or just a jaunt along the scenic trrrain
There certainly would be surprises
Experiences to lighten one’s steps
Meet many otherwise I won’t see
Unless I chose this one journey through
Prestine roads that kept their character intact.
Rubbing shoulders with folks
Keeping abreast of their stories,
Shaking  hands with people with heart!
Each face is deeply etched in my memory!
After parakeets I ran,wondered  at
The  rainbow  colors on butterfly wings!
Orchids had a blend of fragrance and magical colors.
Once at a stop a girl sat with me,
And credling my heart told stories  of ethereal experiences,
I still trudge,pollen from flowers
make me look like
A bee in search of honey of a rare blend!

waltzing into life
the bee is
one of many.
their heart yearns
for sweet nectar,
or maybe love,
or just time.
but honestly, it’s
a short life
and the days
stretch as thin
as the webs
that hide in
the smallest corners.
is it so much
to ask for
a little more
time?