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Little Bee, little Bee,
Buzzing around the Silk Floss tree,
A feast of pink blooms to pollinate -
Your frenzied energy invigorates
The quiet morning air.
Now laden with pollen,
You hastily retreat
To your hive which beckons,
In a hollow, a tree – somewhere discreet.
Ever the worker, your work is never done,
The collection of pollen, for now, is complete.
You consolidate with your co-workers under the sun,
Creating the sweetest golden honey for everyone!
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How we observe and how we reflect.
The observations and reflections of a traveller in a foreign land.
The facades of a perfect home.
This peom is about a woman in my life, who is suppose to be there for me but is not.
Dreams, desires, id and ego.