The Bee's Song
I’m a busy bee
can’t you see?
that whatever I do
is for the honey due.
I habitually fly all around from tree to flowers
usually during the warmth of the sunny hours,
and when I’ve gathered as much as I can carry
I fly quickly away back home and do not tarry.
I gather nectar and bring it home
and in this task I’m not ever alone.
In doing my daily work I’m so pre-occupied
I can’t really afford to just sit around inside.
I live in a hive with drones of my kind serving a sovereign queen
and together we all go about our daily business being very keen.
We’re generally praised very highly for the work that we do
as it is our unique nature to make honey from morning dew.
poem by George Krokos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Call Of The Whippoorwill
I hear the call of the whippoorwill
The calf it bawls in the field
The mare is soon to birth a foul
I can't help it, I miss you still
I feed the geese that once loved you
And that hound from the field you found
The puppy stray you brought home and raised
I pet him while he's lying down
Honey come home...
Without you it's not any kind of home
Own my own, I'm so alone
Honey, please come home
Your hound and I we so try
Through the days we somehow get by
We think we can make it, then comes the night
The loneliness we must fight
The whippoorwill as it calls from the field
Sometimes your name I hear it feels
I miss you so, I love you still
Honey, I always will
Honey come home...
Without you it's not any kind of home
Own my own, I'm so alone
Honey, please come home
The whippoorwill and I we both try
I hear it call I hear it cry
Something is missing from both of our lives
Honey, I'm so empty inside
Honey come home...
Without you it's not any kind of home
Own my own, I'm so alone
Honey, please come home.
poem by Bill Simmons
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Davis Matlock
Suppose it is nothing but the hive:
That there are drones and workers
And queens, and nothing but storing honey --
(Material things as well as culture and wisdom) --
For the next generation, this generation never living,
Except as it swarms in the sun-light of youth,
Strengthening its wings on what has been gathered,
And tasting, on the way to the hive
From the clover field, the delicate spoil.
Suppose all this, and suppose the truth:
That the nature of man is greater
Than nature's need in the hive;
And you must bear the burden of life,
As well as the urge from your spirit's excess --
Well, I say to live it out like a god
Sure of immortal life, though you are in doubt,
Is the way to live it.
If that doesn't make God proud of you,
Then God is nothing but gravitation,
Or sleep is the golden goal.
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Learning from the honey bee
Look at the bees
And learn something
They yearn for others
as busy bees
Together in swarms they fly along
To find gardens together they throng
From flower to flower
From nectar to nectar
Serving their queen bee with compassion
Caring for their young ones in devotion
They toil and toil
From flower to seed
To gather honey honey so sweet
Just to serve just to yearn
A tiny insect makes us learn
Its God Command to serve and earn
Give good to others
And get so in return
Be like the bees to find the truth
Of being happy and to find God's love
Be like a bee and be like the bees
Being for others and nothing above
poem by Rehanayakoob Yakoob
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Another Task At Hand
One more task finished my friend, for what God starts He will end.
He will finish so that you will know, God will help you as you grow.
For God is with you in all you do, God is there to see you through.
God will help you through every task, and all you have to do is ask.
Christ has work prepared for you, in the simple daily tasks you do.
Friend, daily as you do your job, you perform your work as for God.
Just do each task to please The Lord, and your effort is not ignored.
And as you work to serve The Lord, you will reap an eternal reward.
My friend, with The Lord any task, can have fruit that will surely last.
As you do the mundane things, God gives your heart songs to sing.
Friend, even when the day is bleak, simply let The Good Lord speak.
God speaks to you in The Word, in Godly wisdom that you've heard.
God’s Spirit creates in you and me, a witness that all others can see,
That in your job throughout the day, Jesus is with you along the way.
When you work at any place, you can point to His Awesome Grace.
A Grace that sustains me and you, throughout every task that we do.
As you grow you become assured, your daily strength is in The Lord.
For The Lord knows what is best, and in every task you are blessed.
With this task now said and done, you can point to God’s Only Son,
Christ, who is with you every day, through every task along the way.
Pruning Flowering Gums
One summer day, along the street,
Men pruned the gums
To make them neat.
The tender branches, white with flowers,
Lay in the sun
For hours and hours,
And every hour they grew more sweet,
More honey-like
Until the street
Smelt like a hive, withouten bees.
But still the gardeners
Lopped the trees.
Then came the children out of school,
Noisy and separate
As their rule Of being is. The spangled trees
Gave them one heart:
Such power to please
Had all the flowering branches strown
Around for them
To make their own.
Then such a murmuring arose
As made the ears
Confirm the nose
And give the lie to eyes. For hours
Child bees hummed
In the honey flowers.
They gathered sprigs and armfuls. Some
Ran with their fragrant
Burdens home,
And still returned; and after them
Would drag great boughs.
Some stripped a stem
Of rosy flowers and played with these.
Never such love
Had earthly trees
As these young creatures gave. By night,
The treasured sprays
Of their delight
Were garnered every one. The street
Looked, as the council liked it, neat.
poem by Lesbia Harford
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
So Much To Do
The face of the world is a homely face,
And the look of the world unkind,
When harsh on your arm a hand it lays
And bids you into the grind,
That 's little to your mind, my dear,
That 's little to your mind.
But it 's work that counts in the world, you see;
Not what we dream, but do:
For the dreamer of dreams, whatever he be,
If he 'd have his dreams come true,
Must be a workman, too, my dear,
Must be a workman, too.
So much to do; so much to know;
So much that life would shirk!
But each is one of a hive below,
The world's great Hive of Irk,
Where each must do his work, my dear,
Each one must do his work.
A song, a look, a word of cheer,
Will help more than a sigh!
For this is the law of the hive, my dear,
That every bee must try, my dear,
And all the drones must die, my dear,
That all the drones must die.
Oft-times it seems that the end is far,
And the work we do, in vain;
That night will never reveal a star,
And day bring only rain,
To trouble our hearts again, my dear,
To trouble our hearts again.
But ever the stars are shining there
With ever the old regard;
And be it foul, or be it fair,
However long debarred,
All work has its reward, my dear,
All work has its reward.
Could summer come without the rose?
Or morn without the sun?
And thus shall toil bring soul's repose
To each and every one,
Whose work at last is done, my dear,
Whose work at last is done.
For the face of the world is a homely face,
But the look in its eyes is kind
To him who sets his heart's brisk pace
To the work he has in mind,
And turns not with the wind, my dear,
And turns not with the wind.
poem by Madison Julius Cawein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Share, Comment, Learn
Artist Daily, we daily gather.
Sharing work like no other,
Your work gives immense pleasure,
Comments make me want to do better.
Thank you fellow talented Artists.
Am still learning, 'Senior Apprentice.'
Saigon
You got everything that a girl should grow
Im so afraid to kiss you I might lose control
You can hold me tighter but turn loose of my gun
Its a sentimental present all the way from saigon
Honey, honey, honey, please call me
You dont need no money we can do it for free
I got a friend in phoenix with a two-way radio
All the static in my attic getting ready to blow
Saigon, honey, honey, honey
Saigon, honey, honey, honey
Saigon, honey, honey, honey
All the static in my attic getting ready to blow
I was talking to the mailman late last week
He had a letter in his sweater from stuttering don
He said things are getting better in sa, sa, sa, sa, sa
Saigon, honey, honey, honey
Saigon, honey, honey, honey
Saigon, honey, honey, honey
Things are getting better back in saigon
Saigon, honey, honey, honey
Saigon, honey, honey, honey
Things are getting better back in saigon
Saigon, honey, honey, honey
Saigon, honey, honey, honey
Saigon, honey, honey, honey
Things are getting better back in saigon
Saigon, honey, honey, honey
Saigon, honey, honey, honey
Saigon, honey, honey, honey
Things are getting better back in saigon
song performed by by John Prine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Maybe
Alright, alright! this is an old rock & roll tune, it was done by the chantells in the 50s, a song called maybe
Maybe
Oh if i could pray and i try, dear,
You might come back home, home to me.
Honey, maybe
Whoa, if i could ever hold your hand
Ooh you just might understand.
Honey maybe, maybe, maybe, maybe, yeah.
Maybe, maybe, maybe, maybe, maybe dear
I guess i might have done something wrong,
Honey i'd be glad to admit it.
Oh, come back home to me!
Honey maybe, maybe, maybe, maybe yeah.
Well i know that it just doesn't ever seem to matter, babe,
Oh honey, when i go out or what i'm trying to do,
'cause i'm still left here
Holding on in needing you.
Please, please, please, please,
Oh won't you reconsider babe.
Come on, i said come back,
Won't you come back to me!
Maybe dear, oh maybe, maybe, maybe dear,
Let me help you show me how.
Honey, maybe, maybe, maybe, maybe,
Maybe, maybe, maybe,
Maybe, maybe, maybe, yeah.
Ooh!
song performed by by Janis Joplin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Jiving Around Other Hives
If bees perceived themselves,
To be the honey brought inside the hive...
Instead of playing a part,
Of making that sweet taste come alive.
The realness of the honey,
Would not exist.
And no one would experience the taste of it.
No one would crave the sensation to be kissed.
And all that is that is taken for granted,
From our minds would be dismissed.
So you aint the honey.
You just the bee.
Together we make the honey.
And you may believe,
You can have your honey without me.
But I will tell you right now,
Wherever you go...
Thinking you're all that,
You will realize all you attract alone are flies.
Buzzing artificially jiving around other hives.
Believing I wait for you to come back from that trap.
And that honey you made with me...
Is a taste I guarantee you will miss.
But slipping back to unpack your crap...
With me,
Aint gon happen'.
To me...
You've become just another,
Wannabe fly by!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Lily-Bell and Thistledown Song I
Awake! Awake! for the earliest gleam
Of golden sunlight shines
On the rippling waves, that brightly flow
Beneath the flowering vines.
Awake! Awake! for the low, sweet chant
Of the wild-birds' morning hymn
Comes floating by on the fragrant air,
Through the forest cool and dim;
Then spread each wing,
And work, and sing,
Through the long, bright sunny hours;
O'er the pleasant earth
We journey forth,
For a day among the flowers.
Awake! Awake! for the summer wind
Hath bidden the blossoms unclose,
Hath opened the violet's soft blue eye,
And awakened the sleeping rose.
And lightly they wave on their slender stems
Fragrant, and fresh, and fair,
Waiting for us, as we singing come
To gather our honey-dew there.
Then spread each wing,
And work, and sing,
Through the long, bright sunny hours;
O'er the pleasant earth
We journey forth,
For a day among the flowers.
poem by Louisa May Alcott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
O Bee!
O BEE!
VAVROO VAHANA PATRA
O Bee! How beautifully you build your honey-comb!
But greedy men, for the sake of honey, demolish your home!
With what intensive industry you store your honey!
But cruel human beings steal and sell it to earn money!
You save your honey to be used by your kith in future;
But, very sadly it becomes prey to human desire.
Your sweet honey is gone; your lovely home is gone!
How ugly looks the tree and the vernal morn!
People, too, save money for their future generation;
But thieves and dacoits snatch it and make it their own possession.
Thus, one mortal’s savings are plundered by another;
But “ Ill got, ill spent” it the law of even nature.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Honey Hi
Written by christine mcvie.
Honey, honey, honey
Who could be sweeter than you
Honey, honey, honey
Bitter sweet, but what can I do
Lord, its good to talk to you
Even sweeter than wine
Dont take the love light away
cause Im far away from home
Daddy, all Im trying to tell you
Lord, I really love you, love you, love you
Honey, honey, honey hi
Honey, honey, honey hi
Honey, honey, honey hi.
song performed by by Fleetwood Mac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Love Poem-10
Honey … honey … I have money.
Enjoy the life is my only destiny.
Come on enjoy the life with me
Come on enjoy the life with me
Honey … honey … I have money.
Let’s go for a long-drive.
There, where is no tribe.
You me and the money
Let’s enjoy oh my Honey.
I have money … I have Brothers
I have money … I have Sisters
I have money … I have a Family
I have money … I have friends
I have money … So no relation ends
I have money … So worshiped daily
Honey … Honey … I have Money.
Enjoy the life is my only destiny.
Ask your daddy, ask your mummy.
Say, I am having enough money.
They will make you free.
As if they find a money tree.
Let me tell you I am also a human.
I am rich but not a superman.
I too have feelings and can’t stay alone.
All relations are fake you are true.
With you I feel the feeling of coffee BRU.
If doubt, ask to my mussel, Blood and Bone.
Honey … Honey … You are my money.
You are my path and you are my destiny.
poem by Devraj Harikrishna
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Wild Honey
B. wilson
Mama Im tellin you as sure as Im standin here
Shes my girl and thats the way Im keepin it my mama dear
No good will it do you to stand there and frown at me
The girls got my heart and my loves comin down on me
Last time I met her since I got a taste of wild honey
(sweet, sweet, my honey bee)
You know shes got the sweetness of the honey bee
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
Honey, (sweet, sweet, my honey bee) she got me all and stung me good, oh, yesiree
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
Before he even stung bees buzzin around her hive
She singled me out, single handed took me alive
Im gonna take her home and spend my life
Eatin up the wild honey
(sweet, sweet, my honey bee)
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
(sweet, sweet, my honey bee)
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
Oh mama shes sweeter (sweeter) and sweeter (sweeter) and sweeter, sweeter
Yaaaa, honey (sweet, sweet, my honey bee)
Let me tell you how she really got to my soul (sweet,sweet my honey)
It aint funny, (sweet, sweet, my honey bee) the way she made me want to sing a little rock and
Roll (sweet, sweet, my honey)
Theres nothing quite as good as the taste of wild honey
Break my back workin just to save me some money
I can spend my life with her eatin up her wild honey
(sweet, sweet, my honey bee)
Oh honey shes sweeter (sweeter) and sweeter (sweeter) and sweeter, sweeter
Now
(sweet, sweet, my honey bee)
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
(sweet, sweet, my honey bee)
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
Gimme some gimme some
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
Gimme some gimme some(shes the one)
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
Gimme some wild honey
Gimme some gimme some..........
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Honey... Honey...
Honey… honey… I have money.
Enjoy the life is my only destiny.
Come on enjoy the life with me
Come on enjoy the life with me
Honey… honey… I have money.
Let’s go for a long-drive.
There, where is no tribe.
You me and the money
Let’s enjoy oh my Honey.
I have money… I have Brothers
I have money… I have Sisters
I have money… I have a Family
I have money… I have friends
I have money… So no relation ends
I have money… So worshiped daily
Honey… Honey… I have Money.
Enjoy the life is my only destiny.
Ask your daddy, ask your mummy.
Say, I am having enough money.
They will make you free.
As if they find a money tree.
Let me tell you I am also a human.
I am rich but not a superman.
I too have feelings and can’t stay alone.
All relations are fake you are true.
With you I feel the feeling of coffee BRU.
If doubt, ask to my mussel, Blood and Bone.
Honey… Honey… You are my money.
You are my path and you are my destiny.
20th Feb.09
poem by Aditya Pratap Nayak
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Smokin' The Hive (feat. Clint Eastwood)
I was ten years old on my grandpa's farm when it happened
After all these years i can still hear grandpa laughin'
As he applied that barnyard remedy
He passed his wisdom down to me
You don't reach for the honey without smokin' the hive
I remember my first crush was on the preacher's daughter
We were smoochin' on the front porch swing that night when he caught her
We weren't expectin' him home until quarter past ten
When the good Lord taught me that lesson again
You don't reach for the honey without smokin' the hive
You don't point your pistol before you check each chamber
And you don't drink no you don't drink when you drive
It's just ordinary common sense to avoid that danger
You don't reach for the honey without smokin' the hive
She rolled into town with rodeo,she was a beauty
And that cowboy saw you wink at her,she was a cutie
The sound of jinglin' spurs caught me dead on a run
He was fit to be tied and you were under the gun
You don't reach for the honey without smokin' the hive
Chorus.
No,you don't reach for the honey without smokin' the hive
You're gonna get stung boy
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Work To Do
I cant wait to get home to you
I got so much work to do, work
Im taking care of business baby cant you see
I goota make it for you, and I gotta make it for me
Sometimes it may seem boy Im neglecting you
But Id love to spend more time
But I got so much to do
Ooh, I got work to do, I got work baby
I got work to do, I got a job yeah
I got work to do, said I got work to do
Oh Im out here trying to make it baby cant you see
It takes a lot of money to make it lets talk truthfully
So keep your love light burning
Oh you gotta have a little faith
You might as well get used to me coming home a little late, oh
Ooh, I got work to do, I got work baby
I got work to do, I got a job yeah
I got work to do, said I got work to do
I cant wait to get home to you
I got so much work to do
Written by isley/isley/isley
song performed by by Vanessa Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Night Cometh
Work! for the night is coming;
Work! through the morning hours;
Work! while the dew is sparkling;
Work! 'mid the springing flowers;
Work! while the day grows brighter,
Under the glowing sun;
Work! for the night is coming,--
Night, when man's work is done.
Work! for the night is coming;
Work! through the sunny noon;
Fill the bright hours with labour,
Rest cometh sure and soon.
Give to each flying minute
Something to keep in store;
Work! for the night is coming,--
Night, when man works no more.
Work! for the night is coming;
Under the sunset skies,
While their bright tints are glowing,
Work! for the daylight flies;
Work! till the last beam fadeth,
Fadeth to shine no more;
Work! while the night is darkening,--
Night, when man's work is o'er.
poem by Annie Louisa Walker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!