A surfeit of lampreys (or the like).
An excess of chevrons
were bending my ear
about some irksome subject
followed by a queue
of bees – not your average, run-of-the-mill
B&Q bees, these were your white rose bees –
bees that only supped from the cup
of the white rose of York.
As Richard the Third never once said:
‘I’ve seen a horse fly!’
Well, these bees thought that they were the bees’ nizz.
Not a real image.
There are no bees in the Pyrenees
There are no llamas in the Bahamas
These may not be true
they are just what I think
but if it’s all the same to you
I will continue to think things like these
and the truth of things, I eschew.
Posted in Bahamas, bees, Llamas, poem, Poetry, Pyrenees
Tagged #Bahamas, #bees, #Lies, #Llamas, #Pyrenees, #Sex, #Videotape
A selection of British Bee-Keepers.
Keeper of the Bees
It is now time, once again, to spare a thought for the plight of the humble, bumble-bee-
It was only a decade ago that we thought that British bee-keepers were a dying breed. Numbering fewer than 8,000 in number (and not all of those with a mating capacity) and declining slowly and surely into the endangered species category, there seemed no hope for them.
However, numbers have increased (perhaps due to an enforced mating programme) and at last count there were 25,000+ with the promise of a healthy increase in numbers for the future.
The British Bee-Keeper (descended from Apiarists) is a sturdy, hardy sort and their stubbornness has, at least in part, seen them safely ensconced in British gardens for years to come.
A bee, queuing in B&Q,
Hurt his wing and had to be taken to A&E, you see.
When he, the bee, got to A&E (B-Wing, of course)
He had to wait, as it was a hive of inactivity;
The bee waited…
And the bee, he, became exasperated.
“I don’t want to cause a buzz;
Or make a fuss;
But, I have ‘been’ waiting for hours,
‘Four’ hours to ‘be’ precise – as I am won’t to ‘be!’ ”
“Be patient!” They said “Don’t make a scene; you will be seen soon!”
“I ‘am’ a bee patient; I have been patient, I will ‘be’ patient: and. as they say in old Latin: ‘Cebee Healbe, Byebyebee!’
(He ‘was’ an educated son of a bee.)
Eventually, he (the bee) was treated and allowed to ‘be’ discharged.
But, after that, I don’t know what bee-came of him.
Que sera, sera!