A Nest of Wasps
Closing the garage door
a wasp was flying past my head
but strangely it didn’t come for me
and for the first time
I saw a nest on the door
where there were plenty more,
some more small red stinging wasps.
At first I thought that the nest
was empty and when I reach for it
six more wasps flew past my head
and I drew my hand back instead.
By careful inspection
I saw many more wasps
sitting at the back of the nest
and these pests
were sure to sting somebody
time and time again,
but why they were avoiding me
I still do not know.
I couldn’t leave the nest there
and had to get them all dead
and yet somehow I pitied it
and which I could just instead
let them be.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Related quotes
Wasp
Her slender waist resembles a wasp
And she goes on the muddy road never stops.
Unlike bees, wasps are largely carnivorous
And their species, digger wasps, sand wasps & mud wasps
But you are a kind woman and I am sure you do not have a formidable sting
Please do not hurt me as I am scared of wasps.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The Hogarth Experiment Part 7
The first streaks for dawn
broke across the Wye Valley.
The Armoured Flamethrowers were poised
around the giant wasps nest.
Just as the sky began to lighten,
pushing away the darkness of the night
the first wasp climbed from the nest.
Long spouts of flame poured over it.
As its body was engulfed in flame
out of the nest, more wasps swarmed.
Suddenly the sky darkened again.
Several RAF bases were scrambled.
Spitfires and Hurricanes crowded the skies.
This time the enemy
was not the Luftwaffe, but insects.
The pilots where not sure what tactics
they were to use
or how the insects were going to react.
They swooped low down the valley
just skimming the treetops.
Then suddenly they were confronted with the enemy.
They peeled off in different directions choosing a target.
The manoeuvrability of the insects was unexpected.
They swerved, dived, hovered
and even seem to reverse.
Several tried to sting the aircrafts.
As more and more the wasps were shot down,
more replaced them.
Several of the aircraft crashed
as more than one wasp landed on them.
Spouts of fames stretched into the sky
from the flamethrowers below.
A second wave of aircraft
flew into the affray,
they seemed to be swarmed by wasps.
Several of the pilots few upwards
drawing a number of the wasps with them.
Aircraft and wasps darted around
the crowed sky in arial combat never before witnessed.
Hundreds of wasps fell from the sky
and were quickly replaced by hundreds more.
As the aircraft began running short of fuel,
they few away from the fight
and others were brought in.
On the ground, the Armoured Flamethrowers
were being attacked as well.
The wasps crawled over the machines
trying to find a way in.
Smoke began to rise from the nest
as more and more wasps lifted into the air.
Quite a number were met
by long stems of flames that engulfed their bodies.
Several with their bodies still alight rose
and smashed into oncoming aircraft
and both plummeted to the ground.
A black cloud from the burning
nest and corpses of the insects rose high above the valley.
Hour after hour, they fought
before the number of wasps decreased.
After six hours, the fight was over.
Bodies of wasps littered the fields
where cattle once grazed.
The RAF flew the length and breath of the valley
to ensure that there were no surviving giant wasps.
Soldiers with flamethrowers walked over the fields
burning every wasp they came across.
None was to be left alive.
The nest had a constant jet of flame poured into it.
When ever it seemed that the fames was going out
gallons of petrol was tipped down the hole of the nest
and the flamethrowers ignited it.
All through the night
and late into the following day
the process was kept up.
They could not afford a
ny eggs or any of the queens to survive.
Finally, it was over.
The charred remains of the wasp’s corpses
were buried in deep pit.
A week after the battle was over
only small scars on the landscape were noticeable.
A year later there were no traces
of what had happened there in the summer of 1945
and life in the Wye Valley returned to normal.
Professor Hogarth sat in his favourite chair
and watched his garden begin to grow again.
Several times, he could have sworn
he thought he saw shadows.
He put them down to his imagination.
The end.
Author’s note:
Although this has been, a work of fiction of which he hopes the readers has derived some pleasure in reading. I wish to leave everyone with this thought. As the world is increasing yearly in population. More and more plants are being genetically modified to increase crop yields. As insects feed off plants and other insects feed off them. One can never tell if the genetic structure of those insects will, itself be modified. We know that it takes generations for species to mutate. What we do not know is whether they are mutating now somewhere in the world. Which leaves us with the question. What if?
David Verdun Harris
6 November 2007
poem by David Harris
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Wasps are Carnivores
Wasps are carnivores
Yes they eat meat
Aggressive meat eaters
mean meat eating stinging machines
I am not vegetarian
But I don't have a sting in my tail
Bloody wasps spoil the summer.
I googled to see if they did anything useful
I didn't like what I found
Without them, wine would not exist.
Ok ok I don't hate you quite as much
But is this why you are so smug?
Sometimes after wine I get a sting in my tail!
poem by Stevie Taite
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Build Your Nest
Build yo' nest
Build yo' nest
Build yo' nest
Build yo' nest on tenderness
The nest is yo' home and launcin' pad
Vibes ain't good gotcha' feelin' sad
Build yo' nest on love that tells it all
Gives you the strength to walk mighty tall
With a song in yo' heart most every day
song performed by by Earth Wind & Fire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wasps!
I’m walking home, along the road,
Carrying my shopping; a heavy load.
I hear a buzzing sound right by my ear,
And my whole body fills with fear.
Without even looking, I know what is there.
I’m afraid that it will get caught in my hair.
I stand there stock still and totally freeze;
I’m terrified of wasps, but don’t mind bees.
A frown appears upon my face and I pray,
That this worrying wasp, will soon go way.
Soon, he loses interest and gets off my case,
But, even so, I purposefully quicken my pace.
The wasp disappears and I’m on my own again,
Thankful that, on me, he didn’t inflict any pain.
To date, I’ve been lucky and haven’t been stung,
But I’m so totally dreading my first ever one.
Freezing on the spot has worked for me so far,
And has managed to keep me from any harm.
When a wasp approaches, my shoulders hunch.
Needless to say, I’m not a fan of ‘al fresco’ lunch!
Some people wave their arms and go ‘shoo! ’
But, I know this is the worst thing they can do.
Of wasps, I’ve always been so totally terrified,
And it’s a fear, which is extremely hard to hide.
A wilful wasp flying around in search of food,
Can, in a heartbeat, suddenly change my mood.
Bees, unlike wasps, are useful and earn their worth,
But what is the actual purpose of wasps on the earth?
They just annoy people to the point of distraction;
Where there’s a wasp, there’s often some action!
I’m really not their biggest fan, and I really think
I’d be more than happy, if they became extinct!
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Spring rain
Spring rain
leaking through the roof
dripping from the wasps' nest.
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Matsuo Basho
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Logistics
Midnight encounter.
In moon, on sand.
Why you were igniting a sheltered home
of wounded pride?
The blood spills
over the sea, in boat.
You were unrelenting, against traction
violence of unhappenings.
The blackness blooms.
A man will cross midstream,
writing on water the name of a lamb
who refuses to surrender.
I sit between the
kisses of dragonflies.
An empty paper nest waits for the wandering
wasps to come back with stings.
poem by Satish Verma
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First Flight
Brand new baby birds in a nest
don't you fall to the ground.
For there are too many predators waiting
and quietly lurking around.
Don't leave your nest 'til you can fly.
Be patient and bide your time.
Then when you feel your wings are strong
then out of your nest you'll climb.
Now see what you were born for.
Flap your wings and soar into the air.
The sky's the limit for such as you.
As for me I can only stare.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Build Your Nest
Maurice white & verdine white
Build yo nest
Build yo nest
Build yo nest
Build yo nest on tenderness
The nest is yo home and launcin pad
Vibes aint good gotcha feelin sad
Build yo nest on love that tells it all
Gives you the strength to walk mighty tall
With a song in yo heart most every day,
Is what you need along the way
Things get rough, pain comes around
Put up yo dukes, knock it to the ground
If it get back up, do it over again
Smack it hard on its chinny-chin-chin
Now things around you cant do you no wrong
Think about love in yo happy home
song performed by by Earth Wind And Fire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nest
Far and wide I may travel,
Explore places, experience people,
But when I need a place to rest,
I head back to my nest.
Now I am at the edge with wings spread,
ready to fly to a new high
But in my heart I know
No matter how many caps I wear
My nest will always be here.
Here are people I hold dear
who I wish to be near
Here I learnt and fought to make a career.
Here I grew strong with nothing to fear.
Here I learnt to fight and when necessary bear.
Here emotions are felt beyond words one can hear.
Here a smile's always ready to greet each silent tear.
This is where my soul resides.
I refuse to become a guest,
When I come back to my nest.
A new life and beginning, a loved one all await
luring me to the west,
Yet my feet stumble as I try leaving my nest.
The future calls, full of promises
of offering me the best
But I feel, I already have it all
right here in my nest.
Why to risk leaving
what if I fail the test?
A bird in hand is worth two in the bush
I cling to the comfort of the nest.
There's a new feeling though
of a need to build
something of my own
So that to someone someday
I too may say
If you need a place for love and care
a shelter from the world's stare
where dreams you may share
and lay your heart bare
To you I can offer
with pride in my chest
Come in, take shelter,
For this is your nest.
poem by Dipti Date Gokhale
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The Hogarth Experiment Part 6
It is strongly recommended you read Parts 1- 5 before reading this.
Professor Hogarth watched in horror,
at the returning insects
and what they were carrying.
He questioned himself
about what he had done.
His experiment had gone
well beyond what he dreamt.
It had created a horror unimaginable.
Somehow, they had to be stopped
before it went too far,
if it had not happened all ready.
He had to inform the authorities
and tell them everything.
The monstrous creations
had to be destroyed
or the world would be in peril.
Hogarth picked up the telephone,
telephoned the police station,
and explained to the Inspector in charge
everything that had happened.
He said he needed to talk
to someone from the Government,
as these monsters had to be destroyed.
The Inspector said that he would
report everything to the Army
as they were in charge of the situation.
They would be around to see him that night.
Hogarth replaced the telephone
and sat down to wait for the night to call.
Raymond Constantine sat beside the driver
and watched in horror at what was going on.
If the soldiers had not fired upon the swarm
they would have merely passed overhead.
Having killed one the release
of pheromone from its body
acted as an alarm
causing the rest to become more aggressive
and stinging anything near.
All they could do
was to wait and sit it out.
To venture outside of the vehicle
would be certain death.
Hogarth waited and waited.
Slowly the sun began to set.
He could see their silhouetted form
in the moon light returning to the nest.
The forms that they were carrying
made him shudder with despair.
He watched the time
as the hours ticked by.
He felt like telephoning back to the station
and asking where his visitors were.
A knock on the front door
answered his question.
He answered it and let
Captain Alex Walker and Raymond Constantine in.
They explained why they were late.
That they had been attacked and had to wait.
Hogarth explained to them, his experiment
and how he had suffered a heart attack three years previous.
Then how this year things had been growing larger
than normal including the wasps.
He could only guess that there was a nest
under his shed when it was destroyed
and that the experimental serum had leaked into it.
That it had taken three generations of wasps
before it altered their genetic structure
to make them grow as large as they have.
He could only speculate
that they could even grow larger
in future generation.
Constantine nodded
as Hogarth spoke.
His theory sounded wild and imaginative.
He would have taken it as a flight of fancy
had he not seen it for himself.
They had to be destroyed
and quickly before the new queens
had a chance of escaping
and starting new nests.
As they knew where the nest was located,
preparations had to be made
to eradicate completely.
Hogarth and everyone who lived within the house
would have to be evacuated
while this was done.
Evacuation would have to take place tonight.
At HQ Constantine explained
the situation to the chief of staffs
that had gathered.
The RAF would be able to shoot them
out of the skies
as they emerged from the nest in the morning.
On the ground, the Army
would gather flamethrowers
to ensure that the nest was burnt.
It would take a couple of days to prepare.
Over the next couple of days,
the Army gathered a unit of armoured flamethrowers
into the valley
and positioned them around
the opening of the nest.
As the nest would be made of paper,
it should burn quickly.
The only worry they would have
is those within the nest
would come out and swarm.
When this happened,
the flamethrowers would concentrate
on the swarm.
The RAF fighters would shoot
as many as they could down.
The operation would commence
the following morning.
To be concluded…
5 November 2007
poem by David Harris
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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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Hornets
How strangely like a churchyard skull
The thing that's there amongst the leaves!
A Hornets' nest; but stir the branch
And they'll be round your head and ears!
So wary ana so weaponed,
How do they not possess the wold?
Their lives a watch, their act a doom,
Of their own terrors they must die!
Livid, uneyed, articulate,
How like a skull their nest they make!
poem by Padraic Colum
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Heavy Heart I Burry Them
Whoosh, whoosh, whap!
A hungry Eagle destroyed their nest
High up and up
Their mom, captured, away from nest
Turning back not
Had become an Eagle’s meal.
Little ones orphaned
Wingless and scared,
Escape, they had tried
Thud, had fallen to ground
One, a leg broken, head smashed
Another, out were intestines
Pity, pity, up I pick them
Cupped in my palms, lifeless
Up, the tree
Their nest, a ruined home
Heavy heart heaving
I bury them, no ceremony, nothing
An Ant, a meal it had seen!
poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola
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I cannot forget the month of June
I cannot forget
The month of June
My memories
Take to my child hood
The Sun was hot red
And the sky blue
Hot winds blew
Little Cuckoo flew
In the dreaded heat
From the coziness
Of her nest
In search of water
And food
Couldn’t bear the heat
Of the sun
Fell on the ground
Gasping for breath
I saw the bird
Took her in my lap
Gave food and water
And saved its life
When evening came
The cuckoo flew back
To its cozy nest
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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The Wren’s Nest
I TOOK the wren's nest;--
Heaven forgive me!
Its merry architects so small
Had scarcely finished their wee hall,
That, empty still, and neat and fair,
Hung idly in the summer air.
The mossy walls, the dainty door,
Where Love should enter and explore,
And Love sit carolling outside,
And Love within chirp multiplied;--
I took the wren's nest;--
Heaven forgive me!
How many hours of happy pains
Through early frosts and April rains,
How many songs at eve and morn
O'er springing grass and greening corn,
Before the pretty house was made!
One little minute, only one,
And she'll fly back, and find it--gone!
I took the wren's nest:
Bird, forgive me!
Thou and thy mate, sans let, sans fear,
Ye have before you all the year,
And every wood holds nooks for you,
In which to sing and build and woo;
One piteous cry of birdish pain--
And ye'll begin your life again,
And quite forget the lost, lost home
In many a busy home to come.--
But I?--Your wee house keep I must
Until it crumble into dust.
I took the wren's nest:
God forgive me!
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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Ten Years Gone
(page/plant)
Then as it was, then again it will be
An though the course may change sometimes
Rivers always reach the sea
Blind stars of fortune, each have several rays
On the wings of maybe, down in birds of prey
Kind of makes me feel sometimes, didnt have to grow
But as the eagle leaves the nest, its got so far to go
Changes fill my time, baby, thats alright with me
In the midst I think of you, and how it used to be
Did you ever really need somebody, and really need em bad
Did you ever really want somebody, the best love you ever had
Do you ever remember me, baby, did it feel so good
cause it was just the first time, and you knew you would
Through the eyes an I sparkle, senses growing keen
Taste your love along the way, see your feathers preen
Kind of makes makes me feel sometimes, didnt have to grow
We are eagles of one nest, the nest is in our soul
Vixen in my dreams, with great surprise to me
Never thought Id see your face the way it used to be
Oh darlin, oh darlin
Im never gonna leave you. I never gonna leave
Holdin on, ten years gone
Ten years gone, holdin on, ten years gone
song performed by by Led Zeppelin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ten Years Gone
Written by: page/plant
Then as it was, then again it will be
An though the course may change sometimes
Rivers always reach the sea
Blind stars of fortune, each have several rays
On the wings of maybe, down in birds of prey
Kind of makes me feel sometimes, didnt have to grow
But as the eagle leaves the nest, its got so far to go
Changes fill my time, baby, thats alright with me
In the midst I think of you, and how it used to be
Did you ever really need somebody, and really need em bad
Did you ever really want somebody, the best love you ever had
Do you ever remember me, baby, did it feel so good
cause it was just the first time, and you knew you would
Through the eyes an I sparkle, senses growing keen
Taste your love along the way, see your feathers preen
Kind of makes makes me feel sometimes, didnt have to grow
We are eagles of one nest, the nest is in our soul
Vixen in my dreams, with great surprise to me
Never thought Id see your face the way it used to be
Oh darlin, oh darlin
Im never gonna leave you. I never gonna leave
Holdin on, ten years gone
Ten years gone, holdin on, ten years gone
song performed by by Black Crowes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Two doves made their own nest
Two doves made their own nest
and with time cooed in love to each other
but one on a day disappeared
and never again came to watch its loved one,
even when the branches creaked in the winter wind
nobody gave any crumbs of bread to the remaining dove,
only the bright stars were always guarding
over a small nest above an old wooden floor.
poem by Gert Strydom
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First Flight
The young bird hops,
into my open garage.
Head hunched
it studies the veined floor
like a map; lost traveler
cast low from
wooded heights,
and lifts to its mother
a raspy cry.
Too early from the nest
fearful of the sky,
unsure of tender wings,
not able to fly,
it’s helpless.
I want to hold it,
feel its heart
tremble in my gentle hands
return it
to shredded nest,
or,
like a prayer,
cast it high to heaven
and watch it fly
or fall,
but I do nothing.
when echoing its mother’s call
the youngster stumbles out the door
and into the still street -
Breathless,
I watch mother bird
diving near
as the fledgling
rises
into familiar air.
poem by Steven Federle
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