Wasps Poems - Poems about Wasps

The end of a wasps nest I ignored has resulted in up to 10 wasps a day coming in next to where I work. I'm proudly putting each one outside (the most I caught at once in one Ferrero Rocher box is 6). It's interesting (to me) how it isn't causing me stress. Buzz. Locate wasp(s). Catch...

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What a snazzy dinner jacket you have Mr. Wasp. He was flattered I think, this powerful boss. Men are rarely confident enough to wear flowers I said. And your amazing vest is striped, black, yellow and red. You are dapper and distinguished I told the insect. He was ready for white gloves, and a gentle inspect....

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Ted is a novice when skating on ice Kept slipping and falling twenty times twice Body shattered and battered And his teeth were all scattered Prayed the tooth fairy will give a good price Soups and soft food is all he can now eat But he fancied something that is more sweet Poured treacle in a large cup Then quickly drank it all...

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Those kittens bounded through the flap and started to play Raisin said the flowers look so pretty today She went to sniff a daisy but an insect flew out And so she hollered, “Watch out, Rum, there’s waspies about!” The buzzy critter hovered, staring her in the eye And Raisin started flapping like she thought she might fly The tiny demon...

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Late afternoon October 15th, 2022 a spring like day witnessed nature in surround sound, whereby reflection spurred reminiscence about similar weather a few years ago when... Serious intent to read latest issue of TIME magazine found attention pleasantly distracted, when I became keenly aware of flora and fauna bursting, blooming, buzzing, and twittering oblivious to yours truly sitting stock still in folding lawn chair marveling at each budding natural born...

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A gentle droning fills the officers’ club Here come the wasps, someone says A silence fills where conversations were Some of the officers walk to the windows To gawk at the new WASPS...

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dry lavender blooms pruning season underway... painful paper-wasp ...

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Aristophanes, my favourite Attic writer, When he had pen in hand, was a fighter Politics and poetics: his precious topics I know not politics, he loved but poetics Aristophanes, my favourite Attic writer, Clung this man to clouds I know tighter For his Clouds disperse all our doubts But his Birds shroud my eyes with clouds Aristophanes, my favourite Attic...

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One Does not forget The yellow and black Stomping under foot in the woods I look back Running on a pre school walk Stumbling into honey bees Wandering amongst the trees I am stung and yet un-sung Singing before swear words began Now, lounging with wet milk on my lips in more cautious sun shine I crush those who wish me harm for we are both afraid. This poem...

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Hornets came flying in from all directions Skidding to a stop, showing no kinds of affections. They filled the kitchen, they filled the hall. The wasps joined them and had a ball. The mud daubers heard and tried to crash. Which was truly pushy and rather rash. A fight ensued, they stung each other almost to death. I heard this account...

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beautiful garden attracts flying beasts butterflies, dragonflies, luna moths Some of them spill onto the porch Where they nest inside the wood railings are dangerous deep inside are perched flower loving mud dabbers hornets wasps...

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Skinny miniature dive bombers commandeered my porch today. Their command center is in the hollows of my porch’s railings. I watch them wasp-stepping in formation around on a tiny wooden table that holds two cans of wasp spray. Now they are parading around the side of one of the green spray cans. Taunting me with their arrogance. Between the front...

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The wasps are back in full force commandeering my porch They do this yearly They buzz my ears terrorizing me trying to chase me back into the house so they can have the porch for themselves I paid for the porch not completely, but I am still paying for it. not the wasps I look at the can of wasp spray which two of the wasps...

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on a sunny shiny day sitting outside in the garden sipping nectar on a chair at a round outdoor table on the lawn with my mom, someone else becomes interested in me I'm only 3 and Fuzzy is my best friend a stuffed platypus her companionship I didn't want to end the sweetness of my lips was what attracted my...

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Serious intent to read latest issue of TIME magazine found attention pleasantly distracted, when I became keenly aware of flora and fauna bursting, blooming, buzzing, and twittering oblivious to yours truly sitting stock still in folding lawn chair marveling at each budding natural born architect and engineer each respective constituent living organism engrossed delicate as deft potters crafting chinaware observing good and plenti hive nesting reverential species trumpeting suave and...

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