Instalment One Hundred and Seventeen

Illustration by James Hutson - click to embiggen

T’was the case since I was five, that every bee in every hive.

Flew with unfailing poise and utter grace, each a tiny little flying ace.

When not flying they would strive, to take a moment to dance and jive.

Across the world this was the case, for every bee, in every place.

There was one bee with no such charm, there was one bee who caused alarm.

When this bee danced, it danced alone, the bee you see was accident prone.

Take off, landing caused it harm, all too soon it would buy the farm.

From throne to worker down to drone, they all did wish this bee was not their own.

Then one day the hive was struck, by an irate clucky, plucky duck.

Those skillfull bees did waste no time and attacked the duck in one straight line.

The offending duck had time to duck, so those predictable bees had no luck.

One bee was left to avenge this crime, the bee that flew like it was drinking wine.
You will find you cannot flee, from a crazy bee you cannot see.

So now you’ll see each hive agrees, to fly like stumble, tumble, humble, bumble bees.