The swarm of honeybees hover
and gather ‘green’ pollen
religiously.
Social searchers bound
and wound to the comb
of callous compartments
made from wayward wax~

that holds honey
of a different flavor
then their own.

Their confined castes headed
by the prestigious queens
that give bastille birth
of intolerance.

The sterile worker bees buss
the Queen’s bounty
as its unconscious caretaker
unmindful of the totality
of the Colony’s kingdom.

The stingless drones
dip their wicked wicks
in the sacred nectar
that continues life
blind to their actions.

Then there is the outsider,
the beekeeper, me,
that collects the honey of life
while wearing a protective
veiled helmet
of indifference.

Then there is the second outsider who pours that nectar into my hot cup of coffee and say,,DAMM them bee's work hard...wink.lol

Nice poem man.

loved the last 4 lines-great poem of observation

lol I wasn't prepared to write an epic those didn't menion the "other" outsider :P thanks bro

thank you pkd you are too kind

Very Cool!

thanks guys, J and s1ow,

Sighhhhhh'ssss... as she ponders off

Magnificant

Sighhhhhh'ssss... as she ponders off

Magnificant


thnk you