Tag Archives: #bee

Beyond Belief

“That leaf… said Bee,

‘… is the exact same leaf

that fell upon my head last year.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ said Butterfly,

‘it can’t be, Bee…’

Bee liked Butterfly, and didn’t want to appear to argue.

‘No. I suppose it cannot be, for that would almost be beyond bee leaf!’

Butterfly groaned at Bee’s pun, and took her leave.

I know…

I know

I know nothing;

which means…

I know something

and not nothing,

as I had, until recently, thought.

But, I know not what

A wasp

And a butterfly

really ought.

The Bee and the Buddleja

The Bee landed upon

the Buddleja,

rooted around for a while,

and then was gone.

Then returned for more.

And more.

And a whole lot more.

The Bee loved the Buddleja

that was for sure.

Busy Bee

I’m a busy bee

too busy for poetry.



Float like a bee, sing like a butterfly

I had to rescue the bee

from the bowl of water that he

had landed in for a drink;

at least he knew how to float –

or had forgotten how to sink.

He dried off and flew away,

a torrid tale to tell;

but at least his day was getting better –

it hadn’t been going well.


All this caused the singing butterflies

to entertain us with a chorus of ‘Que Sera Sera’,

and a verse of ‘Wannabee’

(in the key of B) were heard;

with accompanying harmonies

from every local bird –

except the crows;

who knows if they could have

added small delights

or sleepless nights –

I’m thinking probably the latter.


So, all in all,

it turned out okay,

with the beautiful singing,

and the rescued bee safely serenaded upon his way.

A Labradobee

If you try

and cross

a Labrador

with a bee

you will just get

a confused Labrador

and a bee

that is so much crosser

than it ought to be.

Do you see?

When there’s a bee in your beer

When there’s a bee in your beer

please remove it;

I know you’ll be left with an ‘r’,

but I think that is better by far.

If there’s a bee in your ear,

and it’s not that easy to hear;

well, that’s a different matter altogether.

Bee in a flower

I’m just a bee in a flower,

hour upon hour,

not the same one, obviously,

lots of different ones;

because I’m a bee,

and flowers, I find,

are attractive to me.

The flight of the bumblebee from plant to plant

Now, If only I could write some words to go with the title and the picture I have…

But, sometimes, words are difficult to find,

escape my mind,

and are not readily available for use.

Sometimes you have to let the picture

paint a thousand and one words –

and let it talk about the bees and the birds.

There’s a bee in my sonnet

There’s a bee in my sonnet

and I don’t know what to do;

I’ve thought a lot upon it,

I just haven’t got a clue.


The bee is buzzing loudly,

calling all its friends?

Now the bee is waving proudly,

I wonder how this ends.


If I get stung I’ll surely cry,

or inflate like a balloon;

but, whatever happens, I will try

not to check out far too soon.


There’s a bee in my sonnet,

and it’s got my number on it.