Long Bee Poems
Long Bee Poems. Below are the most popular long Bee by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bee poems by poem length and keyword.
Bee beautiful
We could have flown together forever,
But now I cannot stay.
If only you could have kept the faith,
We could have found a way.
If only you didn’t kiss him…instead of me.
You could have been the Bumble, to this Humble B.
We had our moment and now it has passed.
We have lost all we had,
But we sure did have some laughs.
I will always love you and I hope you still love me,
But my heart only has a place for my true love
And we were not meant to bee.
You made my heart complete.
I only wish you felt the same way…honey.
Bee beautiful.
I will never forget the times we have been through.
You have always been there for me in the hive when times were tough,
But all things they have to go forward and I am going on without you.
We are not what I want to bee…
I am no longer in love.
I will never forget you and the love you gave to me,
But our love was never destined to bee.
I thought I had found a part of myself with you,
But some hearts are only meant to break in two.
I am sure I will heal and we will smile together another day,
But this time is not the right time for us to say,
We should meet again. Maybe there is a way,
But I cannot stay and be reminded of your face
And the way we always flew…
Some dreams of love they do not last.
Bee beautiful…
Bee the bee that I knew.
(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Form:
As she drinks nectar from a flower,
sweetness from heaven falls like dew
anointed with a gentle rain amidst sun
showers she appears as if on cue
Lifting her wings she lands on a Zinnia
beneath a tinted sky of April blue
flight of fancy fanning fast, fabulous
marvel, she is beauty true on true
Being sent from up above,
fragile like pretty stained glass
her colors shine in the bright sunlight
so heavenly as I walk in the grass
Then she starts to land
flying down and landing right on me,
after taking a short rest she is off
flying away with her friend the big bee
Casting my mind back many a year
To childhood days spent catching bees
Those long gone memories do bring a tear
Playing with friends in the summer breeze
A simple jam jar, air holes pierced in the lid
Laden with clover and blades of green grass
To catch a bumblebee, shear delight for a kid
Observing him carefully through the transparent glass
Like little scientists we named differing species
Terminology I can still recall to this day
What a pleasure it is to remember these
Adventure along the hills was our kind of play
It saddens me today to see young minds so numbed
Lush fields of green devoured and disappeared
To technology, children have now succumbed
Our beautiful world has been commandeered
Whilst walking upon a small meadow of green
I spotted a young boy with a glass jar in his hand
My eyes were aghast at what I’d just seen
It seems there’s still hope upon the land
I watched from afar as he examined his catch closely
Suddenly releasing him and away he did fly
With a loving smile, the boy waved him off joyfully
As I meandered off into the distance, wiping a tear from my eye
these petals unfold
like thoughts of mind
heavy as the weight they bear
this benumbed september day
in the crux beyond a seed's gather
viscid drops of crimson red
carried off by wings of time
now daffing in the cooler air
the hive of mind
through torturous stings of past
grounds me thickset
in honey coated memories
i still taste the poison
lingered from your lips
bitterness of venomous lies
through death's astringent kiss
my love for you, it tarries
no greater than the buzz
amidst these dandelions
stomped upon your grave
September 4, 2019
Where Bumbles Bounce Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Craig Cornish
Mumbling, rambling, wizened and old
This sorry old man leaves me angry and cold.
How such a fool made it this far
Must be the luck of some weird Irish star.
Now I'm expected to play fair and smile,
But against this buffoon that really does rile
Each bone in my body from morning to night,
With his cocky demeanor and memory plight.
Protected and pampered by the media and stars,
He speaks from his basement and meets from parked cars,
Trading favors for votes, a pattern he's shown
And to pressure he’ll cave, for this he is known.
No wonder the Marxists all love him so much,
What better for President, one so out of touch,
The country in ruins but what will he care,
When all he can do is the 90 yards stare.
But all said and done I relish the chance
To prove once again how well I can dance;
And in the great words of my hero Ali,
I'll float like a butterfly and sting like a bee.
vrrroom buzzzzzzzz vrrroom
cars in a circle
touch each other crash
bungled-stuttering engines like
frustrated flying insect?
bungle-stuttering
hits and misses faulty transmissions
Petals and sepals touching
Stramens and Pistils
developer seeds and fruit blossoms
O' hymenopterous succulent
chewing mouth parts
Petals and sepals touching
stamens and pistils
developed seeds and fruit blossoms
Encountering chance obstacle hindrance
In mid-flight voicing working flights
Suckculants flights buzzing
Stigma touches tongue of feathered vertebrate
Buzz-Buzz! Sucks-sucks suckculants
9/12/19
Where Bumbles Bounce Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: craig cornish
__________________________
Three spiritual traditions have created beautiful thoughts on spirituality in the form of short poetry. One is the Zen tradition of Buddhism, known for its enigmatic haikus. The second is the Sufi mysticism of Islam under the influence of Indic thoughts. And the third is Baul tradition from India’s East (Bihar, Bengal, and Assam).
Here, the first of the two haikus was brought in by a budding poet to osho (a Zen master), Matsu Kinsuk Baso for his comments. The master was quiet for a while and then said, a poem is a creative tool. Your haiku has a violent thought. If I were inspired like you were, I would have written it like this (second haiku).
The first talks of mutilation, the second of transformation.
The first has a downward movement, the second, upward.
The first has reductionist perspective, the second, expansive.
The first summons tragic mood, the second, joyful.
The Zen master kept the same elements, but transformed the poem dramatically.
_______________________
Breaking the two wings
Of a bluish bumble bee,
What a blue berry!
If a blue berry
Were to sprout two vibrant wings,
What a bumble bee!
______________________
Musings | 25.08.2026 | analogy, bee, berry, Zen, Haiku
Let’s just bee friends
Humble sat with BlondeBee outside in the hive garden.
All the little mites were floating around,
Collecting all the twigs and leaves which had fallen.
Humble took a sip of his honey, as his honey was sunbathing.
In his head Humble was thinking, where is this going?
BlondeBee sure did have a lot of friends,
But when Humble needed her, she was nowhere to bee found.
He needed a good woman, on whom he could depend,
So he gazed at the sky and didn’t make a sound.
After a while, BlondeBee asked if he was ok.
He said sure, but didn’t truly feel that way.
The time had come to say goodbye.
He hoped that they could remain friends, but it was time to fly away.
BlondeBee had no ambition, no in-built mission,
Whilst he remembered the moths and their space declaration.
Humble had big dreams; BlondeBee didn’t want for anything.
She was happy being part of the hive and serving the Queen.
(C)2019 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Form:
Beeyond the joke!
Humble met up with his friends after work.
He had a big smile because he was thinking about her;
The bee he had kissed, remembering the bliss.
She said her name was Ever Queen.
As Humble was telling them what happened, Bee-Real said,
You know she’s got a boyfriend don’t ya? His name is Zed.
Humble’s heart sank and he said, Right! That’s it!
I’m no longer going out with anyone from this hive! I quit!
Oh come on Humble, said Blondebee.
I’m sure you’ll meet someone eventually.
Yeah right, I don’t think so, I’ll never bee loved.
You want Tiny Dancer (Blondebee started to blush).
Blondebee and Tiny Dancer hadn’t yet admitted how they felt.
Tiny had broken up with Buzzie, so all was well.
They could be together now if they wanted,
But they would have preferred if Humble hadn’t announced it.
And every girl I like never likes me.
I guess I have to bee a lonely little bee.
Why do I always fancy the wrong ones?
I’ve had enough of this place. I want to be gone…
(C)2020 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Ah, mine eyes espied a glorious shade tree
On a recent brutally hazy, hot and humid July summer day
Where below the gnarled roots glazed occipital nerve did not see
Yellow-jackets minding their own bees wax when derriere i.e. did essay
Until deux stingers re:
Accessible bared skin aviary members did flay
Vulnerable hide bound part of my right knee
Whereby toxin induced to feel slightly queasy and appear ashen gray
Yet possessed the response to stand up and immediately flee
As co-horts per the hive stirred with protruding stingers ready to lay
Into another area of ripe human flesh with consistency of Brie
Yet, no intent to be cheesy – nay
On the con tray or e
Only attempting to find good humor to stave discomfort at bay
Which quick thinking found me
Summoning medicinal salve to keep any potential swelling away
Thus this mister mom trotted into the Belmont Hills lye bray r e
Soaking damp washcloths
(I packed in plastic bag to cool thyself) and pray
All the while mouthing expletives more emphatic than oye vay e
Healing powers of self would allow this chap to fell okay
Enough until my thirteen-year-old daughter and tutor would sashay
Out into the blistering heat so we could be on our home bound way.