The Dance of the Honey Bee

I’ve decided to start posting my bad poetry. Enjoy.

Dance Of the Honey Bee

We dress in uniform,
fur coats of yellow and black,
and scuttle around,
our honeycomb city.

We serve the Queen,
nurse her wiggling children,
royal jelly.
Extra for the heir,
(We were not chosen)
Oh the politics of
the Hive.

We are the collectors,
of the prized substance,
served in your tea.

We dance the angles.

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One thought on “The Dance of the Honey Bee

  1. Pingback: Prance of the Drone « The Realist Dreamer

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