The bees fly in the park
they look for flowers
to collect thousand of nectar
one bee recluse itself
the bee has no wings to fly
It qualms in the ground
the bees see the flowers like pendulum
moving right and left with beauty
the recluse bee sees the other bees
they just snipshod
‘carte blanche?’, the bee asks
‘nectar! nectar!’, they said screamingly
marring the nasturtium and dandelion
the bee protect the flowers
but an elf comes like a phantom
the frenzy things end
the elf is inquisitive to them
only the bee, then, becomes a linchpin…
Syayid, May 29, 2007.
