Class 12 – Poetry, Essays, and Articles

Oh! I wished I’d looked after me bees and spotted the perils with these.
With the lockdown set in and my penchant for gin-
Oh! I wish I’d looked after me bees!

Oh! I wished I’d looked after me bees and noticed the queen cells in these.
The weather’s so warm it led to a swarm.
I found them in my neighbour’s trees!

Oh! I wished I’d looked after me bees and travelled the distance with ease.
Just a walk up the path, a gin and face mask!!
And forty winks under the trees!

Oh! I wished I’d looked after me bees and not guzzled the gin daily at three
With isolation growing and supers a flowing
I slept through the summer with ease.

Oh! I wished I’d looked after me bees, this lockdown seemed simply a breeze.
I’m losing me honey and losing me money.
The gin’s brought me down to me knees.

Oh! I wished I’d looked after me bees, with my colonies under the trees.
The bees have all flown, I’m feeling alone,
Just a sad gin and tonic and me!!

The apiary beckons, the sky’s so blue
The sun is high, a summers’ day true

Prise open supers – the foragers’ hoard
Golden snow-capped treasure is their reward

Humming brood – a fruitful queen
Her entourage, they dutifully preen

Aimless bumbling drones & workers’ – varied tasks
Guards, cleaners, nurses – they do whatever’s asked

Royal attendants, dancers, and gatherers too
Perfectionists of every task – so very much to do

Working in harmony, nature as its best
Those busy busy bees, never taking time to rest

They flourish, they grow – ‘As One’ they thrive
The beekeeper content, gently closes down their hive

Airborne, they dance, young and carefree – a mesmerising cloud, an energetic hum.
Sunlight sparkles on silver wings as side to side, they move with joy.
“Look, home is there – between the flowering currant and the rock. What fun.”
Bearing nature’s gifts on tattered wings, she returns with weary gait.
“Yes, at last, …. there, the currant, …. and there, the rock.”
A shadow, a blur of black, a streak of yellow. Strong legs grip, jaws penetrate.
Her sunlight fades, her cargo and her labour lost. Her life is done.
Yet, in the sunlight, the young dance on, unmindful of their sister’s fate.
They know it not but, …. in time, ….. their turn will come.