The Bee Boy's Song by Rudyard Kipling
Bees! Bees! Hark to your bees!
'Hide from your neighbours as much as you please,
But all that has happened, to us you must tell,
Or else we will give you no honey to sell!'
A Maiden in her glory,
Upon her wedding-day,
Must tell her Bees the story,
Or else they'll fly away.
Fly away - die away -
Dwindle down and leave you!
But if you don't deceive your Bees,
Your Bees will not deceive you.
Marriage, birth or buryin',
News across the seas,
All you're sad or merry in,
You must tell the Bees.
Tell 'em coming in an' out,
Where the Fanners fan,
'Cause the Bees are justabout
As curious as a man!
Don't you wait where trees are,
When the lightnings play;
Nor don't you hate where Bees are,
Or else they'll pine away.
Pine away - dwine away -
Anything to leave you!
But if you never grieve your Bees,
Your Bees'll never grieve you!
There's one, not from Kipling,
about a man who frees a trapped bee...
Lines from the same...
"like a note for mailing...
and the bee went sailing."
"I felt alive again in me....
I saw a million flowers for the bee."
Can anyone help me? Thanks.
Sent in by Adrienne Benton
The Bees Knees
Little little bees
Like to sting your Knees
Then they die
You want to cry
Oh oh oh my little bees!
From Katie Sime
My little bee
My little bee,
But sometimes it hurts me,
When it tries to flee,
To somewhere without me
BOO HOO TO ME!!!!!!!
From Nicola Ross
Email : firstname.lastname@example.org
Poema de abejas
Si vuelas, perfumas
Si vuelves, dulce eres
El sol contigo hace miel
Y me lo dices cada vez
Que me siento a tu lado
Y me olvido del mundo
Con tu sonido, amiga abeja
En el almendro,
En el vuelo o en mi pelo
Puedo decir que mi anhelo
Es ser como tu en el cielo.
From Emilio Cadillo
Email : email@example.com
I have two ears
But I can hear more than two things
I have two eyes
But I can see more than two things
I have one mouth
But I can say more than one thing
I have one nose
But I can smell more than one thing
From Claire Roof
The Little Man and His Empolyees
Once there was a little man
Who hummed a little song
To all his little empolyees
Who also hummed along.
And since he was a single man,
And had no real company,
He grew his own crops, and ate his own bread,
To his workers' cacaphony.
Now this small man owned only 2 suits,
One for work, and one for everyday.
The former was used to visit his workers' families,
The latter used for cutting the hay.
Some people found him kind of mad.
Who would choose to visit his employees?
But that little man recieved gifts for coming,
That's why they called them 'honey bees.'
And since that man had his zillions of employbees,
And took care of them all through the winter,
His neighbours got together and gave him a name.
That's why he's called the Beekeeper!
From Susie Band
Email : firstname.lastname@example.org
Bees on Trees
Bees bees bees they fly around trees
Then became alergic and began to sneeze!
They got on my key
I fell on my knees
And that was the end of the bees bees bees.
My bee sting
A bee came flying by one day.
It stung me on my back.
I ran and ran to get away,
Then gave the bee a whack!
The flower cried and so did I.
I felt a little bad.
The sting went away as time went by,
But the flower still remains sad.
Now if my name was Barry
Now if my name was Barry would I be very hairy?
Now if I was a herring would I be very daring?
Do I have to be a herring to be daring?
Or can I be a bee and fly free?
From Joey A. McMillan
Can't help but loving you
You sweet and sticky goo
Staight from the hive or out of a jar
To have a taste of you i'd travel far
So thank you God for those clever bees
Who work so hard and aim to please
From Rachel Walters
Quietly I stand in the warm sunlight
quietly I become a part of their riot
out and in and out again
Dancing and wiggling, chin to chin
Whirling and twirling
a twist and a spin
go this way then that
all to an end
Gather and carry
place to place I roam
stop here, stop there,
then carry it home.
In thru the door,
my burden undone
task to task,to each his own.
Work, ah work, it's never all done.
When the last bee died,
nobody noticed. Nobody put on black
or made a dirge for the death
of honey. Nobody wrote an elegy
to apricots, no one mourned for cherries.
When the last bee died,
everyone was busy. They had things to do,
drove straight to work each morning,
straight back home each night. The roads
all seriously hummed. Besides,
the pantries were still packed
with cans of fruit cocktail in heavy srup,
deep deep freezers full
of concentrated grape and orange juice,
stores stocked with artificial flavoring.
When the last bee died, nobody saw
the poppies winking out, nobody cried
for burdock, yarrow, wild delphinium.
Now and again a child would ask for
dandelions, quickly shushed: That pest!
And everyone is fine. The children healthy,
radish-cheeked. They play she love me/not
with Savoy cabbage leaves, enjoy the telling
of the great myths, peach and peony.
No one believes in apples any more.
End Notes for a Small History
"Southern Poetry Review"
Summer 1998 Vol. XXXVlll, No. 1 page 33
Poème : I eat my peas with honey
I've done it all my life
I know that this sounds funny
But it keeps them on the knife
Honey Frosted Trepidation
At seasons end anxiety grows
do they have enough
when the north winds blows
I've treated, fed and wrapped their hive
like a Christmas present;
that may save some lives
Like grand marble towers
in an ocean of white;
inside rest the guardians of flowers
Standing next to the colonies
Still in the current around us
The wind in great volumes
Pages and pages
And the swarms and schools
Whom we come to see
We live there in the colonies
In the current
We dance with the dancers
Do battle with the warriors
It is trade
Now, your turn...
Thank you / Merci Gracias / Danke
/ Réalisation / Realización
/ Realisierung: Gilles
Last update / Mise à jour / Actualizado el / Letzte Bearbeitung: 10/11/04
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