A Bee's Deleterious Dream.
I'm a labourer of your hive,
You're the queen of the tribe,
I sleep every night dreaming of you, us,
And our budding love; intimately venomous -
I'd hum while you'd nectar the sweetness
Out of the yellow sunflowers and lavenders,
You'd hum while I'd work my blood and sweat
Out to store the honey safely in the honeycomb,
We’d love irrespective of your royalty or my poverty,
The butterflies would flap-dance joyfully,
And the grasshoppers would hop delightfully,
Vibing to our humming song of romanticism.
Together we’d only gravitate onwards and upwards
Like the leaves of the pine trees seeking the sun’s kisses,
We'd fly beyond the wasp nests without fear,
Sail on the paper-boats on water, crystal-clear.
And then comes the part that I dreadfully fear,
We'd get into misunderstandings and fusses,
You'd outrun me with your giant word-spitting venom,
I'd defend myself by stinging you hard on the heart.
So, I wake up choosing to keep the infatuation discreet,
Continue to serve you and keep out; six feet apart.
You’ll continue being the queening wanderer,
And I'll try and thrive to be the heart of the hive.
Hopefully, I’ll see you around in another life,
Where love would come easy without pride.
In another simpler life, we’d restart and bloom
With compromising habitat and less strife.