Where Bumbles Bounce
I've seen the flight of black and gold,
their little fuzzy bodies wing
from lace cap blossoms where they fold
- one final fling for pollen kings.
One final harvest for the queen
and babes the season's end will lose
when Autumn's sting of frosty wean
the death of both, no fate to choose.
Yet through the teeth of winter's chill,
within the nest some chubby stirs
reveal the faith in nature's will
and quells the voice of those demurred.
Once more the cycle starts again,
the gift of life's unbroken chain.
Copyright © craig cornish | Year Posted 2019