The Bee

How busy, busy is the life Fat-arsed but Oh so humble Bumble Bee He has no worries. What a simple life Unhappy. How can he be? He trundles round my garden where my roses grow He is so gentle and slow He always checks each blossom missing none He drinks the nectar. Even stops to hum Not like his cousin the Honey Bee Which dashes here and there Shaped like a wasp and therefore most carefully watched Is safe in his hive and lasts the winter through. From cold he is free The temperature tumbles Alas the Bumbles No hive as such The Queen her Workers and the independent Drones Will die Mind you, the drones live high wide and handsome Once hatched they leave the nest in mid summer Their only function is to fertilise the Queen who bids them welcome The baby Queens live with their mother Only the newly mated Queens will live And start the cycle off again