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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beauty is for women
Flowers dress themselves in different colours
To attract bees, who are not colourful.
Flowers mind visits of bees, not their colour.
Hence women dress to get spotted.
20.09.2000, Vijayavada
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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07. Love, what is Love?
love, oh what is love?
flowers in so many shapes and hues
giving sweetness to butterflies and bees
in so many shapes and hues
in the field, a buzz, a joy, these insects
help create another world
another paradise, warm colourful flower garden
for lovers of the world
help spread cheers everywhere
with the sweetness the flowers
where the flowers are, the butterflies, the bees are
where there is love, joy spreads
wide as the field
just look at the butterflies and the bees
how they cheer up the field with their songs and dance
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Apiary
All the flowers get together
as a trade union
and made a complaint
to the Apiarist.
The bees were kept
without their consent
and they grumbled
bees are freelance
and why did you
obstruct their freedom?
Oh! what a lovely pageant
when flowers are unified?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Luck Favours The Commoners
Strong bees target at terminal flowers.
Some miss, some fail, some trail and a few hit.
Weak bees stumble on flowers that lie low.
They hardly miss the targets and get through.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Love is selfish
Women love flowers; Flowers invite bees;
Bees run for honey. Where’s love mutual?
Each one runs to pursue its own goal.
I love you to my pleasure, not yours.
09.01.2000, Palakkad.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Naturally
All the birds have been blue
They dont know what to do
Ever since you said goodbye to me
And the flowers in their gloom, have just refused to bloom
Cause we all want you back, you see mmm, naturally
All the birds have been blue
They dont know what to do
Ever since you said goodbye to me
And the flowers in their gloom, have just refused to bloom
Cause we all want you back, you see
And even mister moon
Is left without a tune
And his shadows lost the harmony
So dont waste any time
Come back and change your mind
Everything will work out
Naturally
You know that love is a struggle
And only the strong survive
So its up to me and you
To do what weve got to do
To keep our love alive
And now bees have been gone
And they know that somethings wrong
Because they dont feel like buzzing at all
And the starts up in the sky, all they do it cry
And thats why the rain must fall
And the early morning sun
He knows that youre the one
And we both miss your company
So dont waste any time
Come back and change your mind
You know that love is a struggle
And only the strong survive
So its up to me and you
To do what weve got to do
To keep our love alive
So dont waste any time
Come back and change your mind
Well be singing harmonies
With the birds and bees
If only youll be mine
Things will work out fine,
Mm, naturally
song performed by by Huey Lewis And The News
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Bees And The Flowers
the flowers bloom
and then wilt
nothing happens
in between
the bees fly
and hover in between
the flowers that bloom
and wilt
again there is no word
because nothing really
happens in between
the flowers bloom
& the bees fly away
to the other flowers that bloom
that wilt
and nothing ever happens in between
the flowers and the bees
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The bee nest
In Primary school
we played in the field
above the school
in break time.
There we discovered
a hive of bees
under a overhanging
shelve of rock
and I told the other kids
to leave it alone
and went away
to play on my own.
One of the kids
(Peter Conn)
threw three broken bricks
into that bee nest
and that swarm of bees
came like lightning bolts
thundering in.
He ran like a flash
and passed me
with great speed
where I was playing
with some dinky toy cars
and when I looked up
I saw the sky
turning black with bees
and that fool escaped
the consequence of his deeds.
I hardly had time to get up,
never mind to run
when there were bees stinging
and targeting in
from everywhere.
Like a scapegoat the bees
took me for the enemy
and buzzed in
and they came
in great numbers
and that whole swarm stung me
all over my body.
I was swollen up
like a inflated doll,
couldn’t see through my eyes,
could hardly breathe
and got a terrible rash
and were almost unconscious
when we arrived at the nearest hospital
where my mother was in a great panic
and the doctor injected me
a couple of times
and put a drip in my arm
and after that for a while
bees were deadly to me.
poem by Gert Strydom
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Just For Once
wind blowing
in continuous sweeps
rain falling
in endless sheets
birds and bees
stilled in their nests
shake the heart
of its long drawn stillness
to assume
all ears and eyes
to catch the melody
of your approaching foot-steps
to absorb your prescence
just for once
before birds and bees
awaken to life...
30oct2010
12.04hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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And You...Now Wish So Much for Spring
After Summer days are gone,
You seem to be lurching in hushed compassion...
For someone to carry on,
Those Summer days...
Time has moved away.
As if from you to pawn.
And then when Fall is welcomed in the midst,
Your mind slowly searches...
What it is you believe is missed.,
From a past now reminisced.
As if seeking through memories,
Those hours missed you wish to revisit.
And the buzzing of the bees,
Impatiently waved away.
When Spring budded flowers...
Were ignored but birthing to bloom.
Had no room in your mind,
To find them enchanting.
And you,
Now wish so much for Spring...
To again come soon,
To revisit the bees...
Flowers and trees,
With scented breezes.
You somehow miss.
But next time you promise,
To explore every bit to devour it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My! My! Honeycomb
(ronnie scott/ steve wolfe)
Producers for bonnie: ronnie scott, steve wolfe
Recorded in 1975, this was bonnies first ever recording! lyrics taken from careful listening.
Here I am in the city
With a picture of you in my head
I remember that night
The words you said
You told me I was pretty
With the moon shining down on my hair
Im hung up on you now
But youre not there
My! my! honeycomb
The bees are buzzing, the birds have flown
Wild, wild honeycomb, leave my honey alone
My! my! honeycomb
The bees are buzzing, I should have known
Sweet, sweet honeycomb, leave my honey alone
Wrote you so many letters
I was hoping youd answer with flowers
Then I sat by myself
To watch the hours
But you didnt come boy
Not a word, not a call, not a thing
Dont you know how it hurts me
When you sting
My! my! honeycomb
The bees are buzzing, the birds have flown
Wild, wild honeycomb, leave my honey alone
My! my! honeycomb
The bees are buzzing, I should have known
Sweet, sweet honeycomb, leave my honey alone
Leave my honey alone
My! my! honeycomb
The bees are buzzing, the birds have flown
Wild, wild honeycomb, leave my honey alone
My! my! honeycomb
The bees are buzzing, I should have known
Sweet, sweet honeycomb, leave my honey alone
song performed by by Bonnie Tyler
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bees sip honey from flowers and hum their thanks when they leave. The gaudy butterfly is sure that the flowers owe thanks to him.
aphorism by Rabindranath Tagore from Stray Birds (1916), translated by Rabindranath Tagore
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A Prayer in Spring
Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers to-day;
And give us not to think so far away
As the uncertain harvest; keep us here
All simply in the springing of the year.
Oh, give us pleasure in the orchard white,
Like nothing else by day, like ghosts by night;
And make us happy in the happy bees,
The swarm dilating round the perfect trees.
And make us happy in the darting bird
That suddenly above the bees is heard,
The meteor that thrusts in with needle bill,
And off a blossom in mid air stands still.
For this is love and nothing else is love,
The which it is reserved for God above
To sanctify to what far ends He will,
But which it only needs that we fulfil.
poem by Robert Frost
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