Best Bee Poems
Look as far and as wide as you can, my friend,
Turn your eyes towards the sky and try to pierce infinity-
This vast unknown-
Ponder about its existence
Let not a single thing unexamined
Any stunning flower untouched
Any majestic bird unobserved
Any magnificent fish unnoticed
And tell me
Isn't life a miracle?
An unbelievable story?
An inconceivable design?
Yet
A mesmerizing reality?
Look how heaven and earth are put together:
A harmonious whole operating with such precision and
With a single purpose in mind- LIFE!
Tell me, could this great design be the outcome of chance?
Of a hazardous consequence?
Or
The work of blind forces?
Look closer my friend, once again,
Pay attention to the details of this incredible miracle of life
Look how things are so wisely operating
Observe the relationship between a flower and a bee
How they are interrelated,
Interconnected and
Interdependent
Marvel how, although they both are so transient,
They maintain eternity
Note the way they obey the cosmic laws
Thus
Enacting the choreography of life and death that divinity has conceived
And by doing so they become divine themselves and their art holy
Let us, my friend,
Be inspired by them and let us create our own
Harmonious coexistence
Our own choreography, inspired by God,
For
To incarnate His will in reality
So as to glorify His creation
And us to live in peace as He meant us to live!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
06 August 2019
* This is my 2400th poem.
Thank all those who have commented on my poems since 2012! I also thank PoetrySoup because they have helped my poems become known thus they were published in books and anthologies. Soon, I think to stop posting. God bless you all my friends.
Old Mountain tales of love spin
'neath dawn's blush,
Elderberries, purple ink drop pearls
drawing me nigh.
Ah! Her laughter just like a honeybee’s dance
in the summer’s rush.
For you ignite my days with passion,
'tis morn, a tear I cry
The calm, twilight lingers as her words
soft and low
In the caress of wildflowers where life’s
tranquility forever grows.
O'! Upon thy lips such sweetness dwells
Must be God's design
Born where dandelions and wild bees
forever intertwine.
O', nectar kissed by sun untouched by
human hands
An arcadian panorama of ambrosia
upon my senses' land.
Thine gaze is my beacon in the
moonlit’s silvery velvet light.
You my guiding star ignites
for all my spirit’s journey
O' my soul’s delight
For as a life-alchemists seek nectar
deep in the mountain’s heart.
Thy love's an enchanting lore where peace
like nestling lark.
All the sages sighs, thymes' tempting lore
a beautiful pure chorus
Heather fills rolling landscapes
an untold story before us.
Yes, my love's confession takes flight
with wild abandon
In the sanctuary, a haven bathed
in golden dawn
Thy touch is a sacred psalm
a sonnet on the wind
Radiant grace, I scribe my song
on every blossom's stem
Sunlight filters through sylvan green leaves
just for you.
Thy smile, a warmth that sees my spirit
through and through.
Our love, eternal, untamed by
fleeting space or time.
A taste of heaven's dew
a love of purest and most divine.
Together, hand in hand
we'll stray through life's inviolate maze
Where wildflowers bloom
and hearts forever graze.
No jeweled crown
arrayed in silks and finery
Could display the love, my beloved
I found forever in thee.
For You are my sweet lady,
my songbird
my forever home
My wild mountain honey
where my spirit roams.
In thee, a love unbound
sweeter than sun-kissed dew
My Wild Mountain Honey
forever wild
forever true.
The clover lay still, closed,
small, certain,
nothing to offer,
the color of her going dark—
a vitreous-Tyrian.
The bee, chromatic senses’ tasting on the tongue-tip
licking the runes of black-light-lace
circled once, twice—
warm wing-drift brushing kindred nearness
his thorax trembling, scent of sun-saturated-sweetness
nectarous-fragrant with desire.
He loved the clover
and she opened—
bright, fearless, certain—
the sound of yellow flooding her interior
surrendering her nectar into sunlight-passion
petals, wings, one heart
timelessly infused.
My three-year-old son stood next to me
as I watered our garden of flowers
The zinnias nodded their blossoms
As if grateful for garden hose showers
A firework array, was that garden display
Of pinks, yellows, orange,
Purple, red
When my son asked the cutest of
Questions to me
In the darlingest way ever said
As he eyed that large bumbling bee
That he found alarmingly too close to me
Not quite in fear, as its buzzing drew near
And it sampled of pollens so dear
But at his first sight of that yellow bright fuzz
And the loud droning volume of that giant bee's buzz
He just needed to know all was right
He asked
"Mommy? Do humming bee's bite?"
I am a coconut tree swaying in the breeze,
here in the warm sand I will never freeze.
My big coconuts you cannot squeeze,
but you can add my juice to your teas.
I am loved by the big yellow bees,
bees also love to use water skis.
On this island of coconut trees,
I watch the visitors eating fruits with cheese.
The young men love to climb me to look at the seas,
saying no rain please.
to see
a bee
just be a bee
is to behold
to surely see
a bee
you see
can only be
and being bee
he cannot flee
to take the
form of
tick or flea
him being bee
him with his buzz
when I reflect
I think it does
help me to see
that being me
is all that I
shall want to be
and when we die
no longer buzz
and make the shift
from is to was
I think that I
will learn to fly
and he and I
will both
with
I AM
be
He
nourished
my soul with
his promises,
and like a rosebud,
I thirsted for the rain
of beautiful vows that fell
from luscious lips I loved to kiss.
His very presence lit up my world,
and for a while, I thrived in his garden.
Suddenly the sunshine sustaining me
became endless days of dreary gray.
I’m wilting here now, knowing that
nothing he’d told me was true.
A bee, he sweetly sees
new blooms as I die,
petals plucked. He
loves me; he
loves me
not.
Within the crowded dark,
She dreams of a golden bloom.
Weaves a swift, geometric loop,
Then traces right, a graceful swoop,
To banish gloom. from the room.
And share a silent spark.
I never enter every contest on soup
Sometimes sponsors can be very hard to please
Achieving first place is not always a breeze
Some don’t like me writing poems about poop
Yet every person is unique in our group
Some wonderful poets with great expertise
Writing different forms with consummate ease
To be skilled like them then I’d be cock a hoop
Yet people moan when they don’t get a high place
Think their poetry is much better than 'mine'
Tell the sponsors their judgment is a disgrace
It saddens me their feelings are so malign
Criticise until they are blue in the face
For each of us thinks our poems are divine
Written after reading Tommy Boy's recent blog
Jan Allison
N/A in contest judged on 20th November
Submitted to trashed #4
sponsored by Broken Wings
10~17~15
Italian Sonnet - Rhyme Scheme - abbaabba cdcdcd
i knew a bee that could sing
it worked for a queen and king
but they preferred honey
and paid it no money
now it sings backup for sting.
It's Halloween, that spooky time of year,
when scary monsters prowl the streets all night.
The costumes sometimes give us such a fright -
our heads with trepidation fill with fear,
but light the candles then they disappear.
Young children's faces shining with delight,
lit up by pumpkin lantern's glowing light;
with bags of candy kids run off and cheer.
Some teenage children take it all too far
and play their tricks when they don't get a treat.
I find smashed eggs upon my house and car,
then I use language I should not repeat!
Next year I'll have my front door just ajar
and wear a white face pack and old bed sheet.
10~23~15
Italian Sonnet - abbaabba cdcdcd
Contest: Mad as a Hornet
Sponsor: John Lawless
Entered into Halloween Contest
Sponsored by Nayda Ivette Negron
In my quest to escape monotony at work I stumbled upon this poetry site
Little did I know I would excavate a gem with a zest for life
She is also a lullaby songstress; in between my spelling and grammar blunders,
We’re a recipe for madness: crazy blogs, even stranger emails, our laughter and tears
I unearthed Nikko aka Missy, "the spelling queen" my friend with a gracious soul!
#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~
I went to have soup at a table atop a mountain, when who should I meet there?
A very pretty, sassy, missy; she did a 3/4 turn--CrAsH! (2 cabs, fender bender)!
Her laughter and madness, just totally contagious...even strangers want to kiss her!
Through her wonderful words, each petal revealed a bit more sparkle, a stunning gleam
I was so right! Wilma, "the crazy one", she's my true gem of a friend, a vivacious soul!
For Tracie's Grab a Mate & Collaborate poem :D
-- Wilma Neels & nikko palmario :D
Loads of fun, thanks Missy for embracing my madness :D
290820111855
On my walk I chanced to see
An elephant with a bumble bee.
It was such a peculiar pairing,
And they had ice cream, which they were sharing.
The elephant was holding the ice cream cone
For the bee was on his mobile phone,
I thought wow, this is really *****...
I never get a signal here !
Singing pollen songs
Lips anointed with honey
Priestess of Delphi
Filling her pollen basket
Propolis giving comb love
Honey Bee Honey Bee bring
by your charm. Your sweet
warmth from your swarm.
Makes us some honey as
sweet as a flower. Pile the
hive full in your golden tower.
Pancakes and muffins, and
French toast. A million ways to
eat it, I think I love your sweet
honey, the most.
Honey Bee Honey Bee I hope
you will always want to be here.
I will wait for you with my plate
and fork and a smile full of cheer.
I'll guard and protect you as you
weave and I hope you never ever
want to leave.