On A Honey Bee
Thou born to sip the lake or spring,
Or quaff the waters of the stream,
Why hither come on vagrant wing?--
Does Bacchus tempting seem--
Did he, for you, the glass prepare?--
Will I admit you to a share?
Did storms harrass or foes perplex,
Did wasps or king-birds bring dismay--
Did wars distress, or labours vex,
Or did you miss your way?--
A better seat you could not take
Than on the margin of this lake.
Welcome!--I hail you to my glass:
All welcome, here, you find;
Here let the cloud of trouble pass,
Here, be all care resigned.--
This fluid never fails to please,
And drown the griefs of men or bees.
What forced you here, we cannot know,
And you will scarcely tell--
But cheery we would have you go
And bid a glad farewell:
On lighter wings we bid you fly,
Your dart will now all foes defy.
Yet take not oh! too deep a drink,
And in the ocean die;
Here bigger bees than you might sink,
Even bees full six feet high.
Like Pharaoh, then, you would be said
To perish in a sea of red.
Do as you please, your will is mine;
Enjoy it without fear--
And your grave will be this glass of wine,
Your epitaph--a tear--
Go, take your seat in Charon's boat,
We'll tell the hive, you died afloat.
poem by Philip Freneau
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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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A Glass Of Wine
'What's in a glass of wine?'
There, set the glass where I can look within.
Now listen to me, friend, while I begin
And tell you what I see-
What I behold with my far-reaching eyes,
And what I know to be
Below the laughing bubbles that arise
Within this glass of wine.
There is a little spirit, night and day,
That cries one word, for ever and alway:
That single word is 'More!'
And whoso drinks a glass of wine, drinks him:
You fill the goblet full unto the brim,
And strive to silence him.
Glass after glass you drain to quench his thirst,
Each glass contains a spirit like the first;
And all their voices cry
Until they shriek and clamor, howl and rave,
And shout 'More!' noisily,
Till welcome death prepares the drunkard's grave,
And stills the imps that rave.
That see I in the wine:
And tears so many that I cannot guess;
And all these drops are labelled with 'Distress.'
I know you cannot see.
And at the bottom are the dregs of shame:
Oh! it is plain to me.
And there are woes too terrible to name:
Now drink your glass of wine.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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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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Just for joy, take from my palms
Just for joy, take from my palms
A little sun, a little honey,
As Persephone's bees commanded.
An unfastened boat cannot be untied.
A shade shod in fur cannot be heard.
In the dense forest of life fear cannot be overcome.
Only kisses are left for us.
Furry, like small bees
That die when they leave the hive.
They rustle in transparent thickets of night,
Their home is the dense Taiga woods;
Their food -- time, honeysuckle, mint.
So take and enjoy my passionate gift,
A dry, unsightly necklace
Of dead bees, who changed honey into sun.
poem by Osip Emilevich Mandelstam
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Two Children
Two children (small), one Four, one Five,
Once saw a bee go in a hive,
They'd never seen a bee before!
So waited there to see some more.
And sure enough along they came
A dozen bees (and all the same!)
Within the hive they buzzed about;
Then, one by one, they all flew out.
Said Four: 'Those bees are silly things,
But how I wish I had their wings!'
poem by Spike Milligan
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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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You've never seen death? Look in the mirror every day and you will see it like bees working in a glass hive.
quote by Jean Cocteau
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bottom Of The Glass
You think that you have found a way to ease your troubled mind
You fill a glass, then drink it down and fill it one more time
Well, the wine will flow and the pain will go but the spell will never last
Youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
Youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
Well, the bottom of the glass is just as empty as your life
You know it holds no secret way to help you in your strife
But for a while youre in another world and you wake up in the past
Youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
Youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
...glass
That bottle there is not your friend when its gone it leaves you cold
The strength it gives you slips away for its something you cant hold
Your hands will shanke and then youll take another from the flask
But youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
Youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
Youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
Youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
song performed by by Whiskeytown
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bottom Of The Glass
You think that you have found a way to ease your troubled mind
You fill a glass, then drink it down and fill it one more time
Well, the wine will flow and the pain will go but the spell will never last
Youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
Youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
Well, the bottom of the glass is just as empty as your life
You know it holds no secret way to help you in your strife
But for a while youre in another world and you wake up in the past
Youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
Youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
...glass
That bottle there is not your friend when its gone it leaves you cold
The strength it gives you slips away for its something you cant hold
Your hands will shanke and then youll take another from the flask
But youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
Youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
Youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
Youll never find the answer in the bottom of the glass
song performed by by Whiskeytown
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Inscription For A Fountain On A Heath
This Sycamore, oft musical with bees,--
Such tents the Patriarchs loved ! O long unharmed
May all its agéd boughs o'er-canopy
The small round basin, which this jutting stone
Keeps pure from falling leaves ! Long may the Spring,
Quietly as a sleeping infant's breath,
Send up cold waters to the traveller
With soft and even pulse ! Nor ever cease
Yon tiny cone of sand its soundless dance,
Which at the bottom, like a Fairy's Page,
As merry and no taller, dances still,
Nor wrinkles the smooth surface of the Fount.
Here Twilight is and Coolness : here is moss,
A soft seat, and a deep and ample shade.
Thou may'st toil far and find no second tree.
Drink, Pilgrim, here ; Here rest ! and if thy heart
Be innocent, here too shalt thou refresh
Thy spirit, listening to some gentle sound,
Or passing gale or hum of murmuring bees !
poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
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Mexican Wine
He was killed by a celular phone explosion
They scattered his ashes across the ocean
The water was used to make baby loation
The wheels of promotion, were set into motion
But the sun still shines in the summer time
I'll be yours if you'll be mine
I tried to change, but I changed my mind
I think I'll have another glass of Mexican Wine
She lived alone in a small apartment
Across the street from the health department
She left her pills in the glove compartment
That was the afternoon her heart went
And the sun still shines in the summer time
I'll be yours if you'll be mine
I tried to change, but I changed my mind
I think I'll have another glass of Mexican Wine
I think I'll have another glass of Mexican Wine
I used to fly for United Airlines
Then i got fired for reading High Times
My license expired in almost no time
Now I'm retired and I think that's fine
Because the sun still shines in the summer time
I'll be yours if you'll be mine
I tried to change, but I changed my mind
I think I'll have another glass of Mexican Wine
Because the sun still shines in the summer time
I'll be yours if you'll be mine
I tried to change, but I changed my mind
I think I'll have another glass of Mexican Wine
I think I'll have another glass of Mexican Wine
Wont you have another glass of Mexican Wine?
song performed by by Fountains Of Wayne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Glass War
Glass war, glass war, glass war, glass war, it's a glass war
Glass war, glass war, it's a glass war
Glass war, glass war
It's a glass war
Cause you can see right through the poisen
It's a glass war
Cause we all know the activeties
It's a glass war
Cause it's made of smoke and mirrors
It's a glass war
It's a glass war
It's a glass war
Cause only poor men are dyin in the
Gas war
Cause we know why it was started
It's an ass war
Cause the president's an asshole
It's an ass war
It's a glass war
It's a gas war
Cause the starters are all victims of the
Glass war
The slogan men were starters of the
Last war
Now the southern men are starters of the
Glass war
It's a Glass War
It's a Glass war
And the shards are gunna start another glass war
And the shards are gunna start another glass war
And the shards are gunna start another glass war
And the shards are gunna start another glass war
And the shards are gunna start another glass war
It's a glass war
It's a glass war
song performed by by NOFX
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Bee's Song
Do not tie my wings,
Says the honey-bee;
Do not bind my wings,
Leave them glad and free.
If I fly abroad,
If I keep afar,
Humming all the day,
Where wild blossoms are,
'Tis to bring you sweets,
Rich as summer joy,
Clear--as gold and glass;
The divinest toy
That the god's have left,
Is the pretty hive,
Where a maiden reigns,
And the busy thrive.
If you bar my way,
Your delight is gone,
No more honey-gems;
From the heather borne;
No more tiny thefts,
From your neighbor's rose,
Who were glad to guess
Where its sweetness goes.
Let the man of arts
Ply his plane and glass;
Let the vapors rise,
Let the liquor pass;
Let the dusky slave
Till the southern fields;
Not the task of both
Such a treasure yields;
Honey, Pan ordained,
Food for gods and men,
Only in my way
Shall you store again.
Leave me to my will
While the bright days glow,
While the sleepy flowers
Quicken as I go.
When the pretty ones
Look to me no more,
Dead, beneath your feet,
Crushed and dabbled o'er;
In my narrow cell
I will fold my wing;
Sink in dark and chill,
A forgotten thing.
Can you read the song
Of the suppliant bee?
'Tis a poet's soul,
Asking liberty.
poem by Julia Ward Howe
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No Eyes
No eyes for beautiful talk,
Or living beyond sight,
Stung by the bees and wasps
In flight from a tree or realm.
A television is naming scenes
We desire to inflict and employ
To really conquer,
For sight is a real pledge.
The bees and their hive
Rest in safe qualms, filling.
poem by Naveed Akram
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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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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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My Bees: An Allegory
"O bees, sweet bees!" I said, "that nearest field
Is shining white with fragrant immortelles.
Fly swiftly there and drain those honey wells."
Then, spicy pines the sunny hive to shield,
I set, and patient for the autumn's yield
Of sweet I waited.
When the village bells
Rang frosty clear, and from their satin cells
The chestnuts leaped, rejoicing, I unsealed
My hive.
Alas! no snowy honey there
Was stored. My wicked bees had borne away
Their queen and left no trace.
That very day,
An idle drone who sauntered through the air
I tracked and followed, and he led me where
My truant bees and stolen honey lay.
Twice faithless bees! They had sought out to eat
Rank, bitter herbs. The honey was not sweet.
poem by Helen Hunt Jackson
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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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Spring comes only once.
The spring strikes; the trees blossom.
Bees swam and the trees bloom.
The autumn strikes; the trees shed.
Bees are nowhere around the trees.
Spring comes to woman only once
That she must enjoy without a miss.
26.11.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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First Day Of Spring
I know today's the first of spring.
I wonder what the spring will bring?
I know it will bring blooming trees
and pollen that will make some sneeze.
I know it will bring lots of flowers
to stir our senses and feelings for hours.
I know it will make the earth come alive
and bees and wasps building a hive.
I know it will start the ritual of love
and an increase of cloudless skies above.
I know it will bring springtime rain
that will end with rainbows that can't remain.
I know it will make me happy to see
the warmer days and tranquil sea.
What I don't know is what I will do
if springtime wishes don't come true?
poem by Edwina Reizer
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