Talk of Bees

I wrote this poem last week. My laptop troubles nearly killed this one off. Not because I nearly lost a copy of the verses but because it all happened between verse two and three. Getting my mind to switch from thinking about bees to fixing comps and then back to thinking about bees again isn't the best way to focus my muse. Anyway here it is. I dedicate this one to my very own queen bee whose birthday was only last week.

The Talk of Bees

If you could know

The talk of bees,
What tales they'd speak
Of flowers and trees.
How warm the wind
Or cold the rain,
Would set your mind
To sleep or gain.

Cry hide among

The folk's glove fingers,

When heart alarms
And peril lingers.
What nature's wrath
Or heavy tread,
Can breach your fort
Of hanging head?

Your wistful hum

Of gyring flight,

Turns homeward through

Day's waning light.

Does love of queen

Your soul appease?

A secret held

By talk of bees.

Michael Finn