In the highlands of Scott, in a green garden plot,
a bonnie lass in the flowers did play.
Her mum watched o’er from the old cottage door
lest her daughter should wander away.

You could see it today from not far away,
a sweet bee from it’s hive did appear,
and from blossom to bloom, the creature did zoom,
but for the moment it caused her no fear.

From sweet clover to phlox, then on to the stalks,
it did wander in quest of its fare,
and as it flew by, it caught the girl’s eye,
and with a swat it was sent thru’ the air.

A quick zip, and alas, it did fall in the grass
where it lay a short time in repose;
Stunned tho’ it was, it soon rose with a buzz,
and lit square on the seat of her hose.

No, she didn’t sing as it gave a good sting,
but a scream did ring out thru’ the glen.
Straight away she did flee for her dear mum to see;
and brought forth the whole neighborhood then.

From that time you see, she’s afraid of the bee,
his vengeance she feels was abuse.
Now, in the garden to play—she stays far away,
thus leaves the bee fragrant flowers to use.

George Metrokas
©2005