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