Gleb Zavlanov Poet Ode

Ode To a Bee

Swift bee, the gilded messenger of bliss,
    Begirt with golden stars of Heaven’s span,
What draws you to the clover’s gentle kiss?
    Sweet nectars, that the strongest drinker can
    Carouse with dreams and dizzy waves of sleep,
        Or mocks the freshest breath of summer’s clime?
            Swift bee, a flame-plumed star of black and gold,
    Why do you with your mouth, completely reap
            The liquors that each golden bud does hold,
        And lulls with somnolence the might of time?
 
Oh, bee, you spread the tufted pollen clouds
     Like nebulae of opal stars crossways
The delicate, soft digitalis crowds,
    Which passionately garner sunbeam rays
    Within their coral shells. I can’t express
        How much your toil’s worth to coming spring,
             And how so passioned glide your wings around
    The purple, gentle harebell’s loosened dress,
             And make, through pretty hums, spring’s hopeful sound
        Oft too profaned by your most fearsome sting!
 
Oh, pretty hummer! Hearty worker! Bee!
    I see you roaming round the garden’s bend,
Where sweet, white daisies wreathe a canopy,
    And make you but a hearty, cheerful friend.
    Swift bee, the aching, swollen heart of mine
        Desires comfort where pain knows no ruth
            The buds hold, like rich garners golden grain,
    Ambrosia of the gods, dream’s honeyed wine
            So bring and let dear bee, such moisture stain
        My lips and warm my heart with spring’s bright youth!
 

© 2014 Gleb Zavlanov

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Jesus Tello March 30, 2014 at 8:00 PM With such eloquet language, this poem welcomes spring (even if it hasn't arrived yet), and reminds one of the rich joys of spring