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The Bee-Boy's Song
Bees! Bees! Hark to your bees!
"Hide from your neigbours 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 just about
As curious as a man!
Don't you wait where the 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.
poem by Rudyard Kipling

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I Write About The Butterfly
'I write about the butterfly,
It is a pretty thing;
And flies about like the birds,
But it does not sing.
'First it is a little grub,
And then it is a nice yellow cocoon,
And then the butterfly
Eats its way out soon.
'They live on dew and honey,
They do not have any hive,
They do not sting like wasps, and bees, and hornets,
And to be as good as they are we should strive.
poem by Louisa May Alcott

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Perplexed flower and a rainbow winged butterfly
My Grandma always advised me; ' Hey! My sweet Lady do not believe promiscuous Hornets, Bees, Wasps and mischievous honey suckers.
They ruin your innocent life somehow.'
Yes, They tried several times to approach me and I found in their love letters lot of promises.
But I refused then and there.
A rare butterfly flies very often to my vicinity
And I have a real faith on him.
Please promise that you never betray me
And I sacrifice my whole life
If you do not fly on other flowers?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga

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The garden is my weeping heart
There is no fertilizer at all
But they grow without any quarrels.
Flowers in different colors
And varieties of fragrance.
I have no fence and restrictions too.
Birds, bees, butterflies and hornets idle.
Some trespassers with strong hands,
Sometimes very cruel.
Please do not pluck in that way as it's painful
And let the flowers wither.
One day I have to abandon the garden
As my soul takes wings.
But you find another gardener there.
* Spring comes and goes, yet comes again.
What a wonderful shuttle the nature is?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga

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Sulking Flowers
Comparing the bees to the wandering males of human species,
Disheartening the waiting souls at the threshold of floral genesis,
For the pollen these bees brought unknowingly,
The generous flowers tip the nectar unconditionally.
Bees are the messengers, not the rapists as human,
Bees are the servants, not the incest driven as human,
Bees are the courier carriers, not the molesters as human,
Bees are innocent, not the illusionists scoundrels as human.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi

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The Tree of Life
Dandy youthful summer step in.................
flowers delighted.
birds, butterflies,
bees and hornets fly for delicacy.
seasons change as usual
never try to stop them.
Autumn comes in a faint shadowy trace
and ripen fruits vanished.
flowers no more, birds and butterflies too.
faded leaves falling one by one.
the skeleton tree stands alone
and facing the bitter reality.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga

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The Capitalist Florist and a Wild flower
'You asked my name isn't it?
My name is Orphan.' The Wild flower muttered.
'It's a strange name.' Handsome florist replied.
'What's your good name Sir? '
'I am Romeo.'
'Romeo, I am not your Juliet
Just a Wild flower and I would like to compete the other flowers.
Still I am proud of being a Virgin
Boisterous Hornets and Bees never touched me.
You know a Plectrum that touches the strings,
Strings never cry of the play
Please pluck me gently
It's really painful and I believe you
That you never betray me
Or offer me to a Betrayer!
*Humbly I dedicate this poem to my poet friend Romeo Della Valle!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga

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Knees Of My Bees
we share a culture same vernacular
love of physical humor and time spent alone
you with your penchant for spontaneous events
for sticky and raspy, unearthed and then gone
you are a gift promised sent with a wink
with tendencies for conversations that raise bars
you are a sage who is fueled by compassion
comes to nooks and crannies, is bound for all stars
you make the knees of my bees weak, tremble and buckle
you make the knees of my bees weak
you are a spirit that knows of no limit
that knows of no ceiling who baulks at dead-ends
you are a wordsmith who cares for his brothers
not seduced by illusions of fair-weather friends
you make the knees of my bees weak, tremble and buckle
you make the knees of my bees weak
you are a vision who lives by the signals of
stomach and intuition as your guide
you are a sliver of god on a platter
who walks what he talks and who cops when hes lied
you make the knees of my bees weak, tremble and buckle
you make the knees of my bees weak
you make the knees of my bees weak, tremble and buckle
you make the knees of my bees weak
you make the knees of my bees weak, tremble and buckle
you make the knees of my bees weak
song performed by by Alanis Morissette

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You must kill the hornets to get rid of the nest.
Soccer!
GOAL! SCORE! HORNS BLARING!
soccer fans blowing there horns, eating their food, jumping up and down, painted faces, soccer jerseys, foam fingers, hot blistering sun, fun.
soccer balls roll and fly across the field soaring though the air like a bird with no wings, black and white moving so fast.
soccer bleachers, sweating fans, crumbs of food left in the stands, bird and bees and hornets to fly all around looking for food.
GOAL! SCORE! HORNS BLARING! SOCCER!
poem by Katrina Stewart

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Behind The Veil
The withdrawing bees sit on the blooms,
Dusts of yellow fall and start to groom,
The prosecuted flowers, accused of waywardness,
The bees are brought to identify, the lady pregnant,
Points the finger at one, who is in prime,
To take care her deposit in the silent shrine,
Bees get off guard, wrong genetic code,
The community of bees not to want to ride,
And conspire to keep the blooms on guard,
Each matured flower to be covered,
From the wavy petals to the leggy stem,
Just an opening for the rays to peep in,
The blooms on cover, not to attract the bees,
The blooms watch and enjoy exclusive.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi

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The Odour of Withered leaves
She rests all the time in her garden
laying out a mat under a shady tree
A flask of tea stands behind and a book of poetry
that will never finish.
'Once she had been a beauty queen
now passing a solitary life; a widow and childless.
Recently she celebrated her fiftieth birthday
only with her gardner.
The silence ringing her ears and she heard a whispering of grass
and withered leaves.
a decayed leaf cries; once she had a smooth skin golden
spreading lines, thick flesh as jelly
how many dew drops remained and kissed
butterflies, bees and hornets slept
now a skeleton; good for nothing
but a photographer may seeks'
She got shocked; like a rabbit
cold as marble
finally she decided to get a divorce from her lonliness
and marry the old gardener.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga

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Bees
Bees are messengers from up above:
Filled with goodness and with love.
Unlike wasps, they mean us no harm:
They are more friendly and have charm.
On fine, silvery wings, the bees take flight,
When the sun's warm rays are shining bright.
They collect up the pollen in their sacs,
Then, to their hives, they take it back.
They carry out their duties with a smile;
Their souls full of cheer all the while.
With keenness, they carry out their work;
Their responsibilities, they do not shirk.
Bees have such an important role to play:
We would be doomed if they died away.
Plants and flowers would cease to grow,
And supplies of foodstuffs would soon be low.
Of bees, there is no need for us to be scared;
About their work, they passionately do care.
If we leave these dedicated workers well alone,
Near to us humans, they will not dare to roam.
They will not sting us, unless they're provoked,
For them, using their sting is certainly no joke.
If a bee ever stings you, you may well cry,
But the poor old bee, well, it would then die.
Unlike wasps, bees are not considered pests,
Even though they are very similarly dressed.
Bees are really fabulous, bees are really brill:
A bee, you should never ever, on purpose, kill.
poem by Angela Wybrow

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Luck favours the ordianary
Strong bees target on terminal flowers.
Some miss, some fail, some trail and some succeed.
Weak bees stumble on those shy and beneath.
They hardly miss the targets and get through.
Maids and servants are fortunate weak bees
30.05.2002, pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

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Laws are like cobwebs, which may catch small flies, but let wasps and hornets break through.
quote by Jonathan Swift

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Marriage does havoc.
Petals attract bees
Their works are over
Once bees have landed on them.
Honey is sucked and
The stigma, crushed.
No clinging thereafter
Between petals and bees.
Every woman has
What is enough to attract.
No woman is to have
What is enough to retain
A man for long thereafter.
Marriage does a havoc.
16.03.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

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Sonnet: The Bees Never Give Up
Every time, they crush the bees to death and
Steal away their sweet honey in a trice;
And wax to make candles of immense size;
The Queen bee escapes to another land.
The bees comeback; with vengeance start again
A small bee-hive in the very same place!
They work extra in the sun and in rain,
Buzzing to flowers in a frenzied pace.
And soon their hive has been rebuilt and full,
Of sweet honey and larvae that are fed;
The bees continuing without a lull,
Searching for more nectar in every mead.
How well Nature takes care of its species!
Man must learn from the bee-hive and the bees.
poem by John Celes

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Rivalry only yields fruits.
Plants vie with each other
To give flowers in different colours.
They have to catch eyes of bees.
Bees vie with each other
To imbue force with their breeds.
They have to be early birds.
Flowers are colourful.
Bees are black moors.
A perfect combination.
Woman, mind your face.
Man, mind your force.
25.04.2002, pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

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