Thursday, November 29, 2012

Honey Bee

Honey Bee
He slowly approached the bee hives,
Observing the endless streams of flight.
The honey bees deserved his attention,
But he wondered, What is she doing tonight?

He put on his hat and accompanying veil,
To provide protection from stings to his face.
He lit up his smoker and then eased it down.
Would I be welcome if I stopped by her place?

Prying open a lid he sent in a few puffs of smoke.
The bees calmed down and moved away,
While he checked each frame for the queen.
What could I bring to brighten her day?

The queen was perfect, undamaged and full.
In the summer this hive would be strong.
There would be supers of golden honey.
 He’d get sweet rewards if nothing went wrong.

As he carefully reassembled the frames,
One worker flew out and stung his wrist,
Was that a portent of things to come?
Would he be crossed from her list?

As he worked through the remaining  hives,
He was distracted by a disturbing thought.
If he was determined, would love find a way?
Because she was well worth any battles fought.

In his beat-up car he sped wearily to her house,
Hoping he could see her without being seen.
On her porch he would leave a bottle of honey,
With a note saying, TO MY QUEEN.

Plans concerning love can sometimes go awry.
Honeyed words often remain frozen on lovers’ lips,
And love not claimed can be lost for all time,
Sailing swiftly away like a phantom ship.

In front of her house he parked his car,
And placed the honey up on her porch.
Before he could leave she raced outside.
He wasn’t the only one carrying a torch.

She was perfect, just right for his queen.
Ripe and willing, she was waiting for her king.
Their future was golden and offered sweet rewards.
Though they had little, they had everything.

Friday, November 2, 2012

One Lonely Dragon

One Lonely Dragon, Magic and Tough

Once I yearned to be magic and tough,
But I was left to wonder what my status is,
Though life’s a stage to strut my stuff,
I knew I’d never make it in show biz.

I was the wall flower, intense and shy,
Entering from stage left, or was it right?
Left out of the popular group, the other guy,
For everything I got, I had to fight.

So I became a dragon from medieval days,
You knew I was there.  I had a mighty roar,
But dragons are the ones who everyone slays,
If I wasn’t careful, I’d be doomed forevermore.

I could be in a crowded room, invisible to all,
Pretending that I’d asked someone to dance,
Yet even then my courage would hit the wall,
For lonely dragons only get one chance.

There must be a lady dragon waiting somewhere,
Although time drags on and it’s getting late,
I’m still invisible and no one can find me here,
I’m breathing fire and I don’t want to wait.

And the days drag on, and the nights grow cold,
I still remain a dragon, but just on the inside,
Watching the modern knights who are so bold,
While I sit steaming in my tough old hide.

With a Breeze in the Back

With a Breeze in the Back

“One lump or two?” I heard the nurse say,
My heart began pounding twice as fast,
I wasn’t mentally prepared on that fateful day,
I thought, This day could be my last.

From his office into the clean crisp air,
Escaping because I was upset and afraid,
Suddenly I realized that I was almost bare,
And in front of the Thanksgiving parade.

I couldn’t decide exactly what to do,
 I still wore my gown with a breeze in the back,
 I was embarrassed and a little cold too,
But I was in the parade, the leader of the pack.

My mind was numb and I lost my fear,
And I began to relax and wave,
The crowd roared and began to cheer,
For they thought I was extremely brave.

High stepping and saluting to the crowd’s delight,
I marched past the judges’ stand,
I was in my glory and in full sight,
I won a trophy for most spectacular in all the land.

I led that parade down a frontage street,
Until I marched into the doctor’s office again,
I entered and had just taken a seat,
When the doctor rushed in with a grin.

He asked, “Have you been waiting long?”
As he spent two minutes looking over my chart,
“Well I marched in a parade and wrote a song.”
He squinted and said, “Patience is an art.”

“Doc, I need to know.  Was it one lump or two?”
“Why would you want to know that?
I want my coffee sweet so two lumps will do,
My wife would kill me.  She thinks I’m getting fat.”

Two lumps of sugar had been my downfall,
I had led a parade where everyone could see,
It hadn’t been my lymphatic glands at all,
 It was sugar that almost killed me.

In the doctor’s office listen to what he says,
Don’t jump to conclusions if you’ve found a little bump,
Unless he shows you the x-rays,
Let his coffee contain the lump.

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