Familiar Sting

Busy Bee flew ’round with glee, flirting with the teases.

Busy Bee, in his honey tree, getting what he pleases.

Busy Bee, he followed me, but I did not cry.

Busy Bee, he stung me, but I did not die.

Busy Bee floats over summit ridges.

Busy Bee hides inside rainbows of two-lips.

Busy Bee, he came for me.

But, Busy Bee can’t kill me.

Busy Bee promised me, he would not strike me twice.

Busy Bee bit me once; drained my heart completely dry.

Busy Bee bothers fathers of proper ladies.

Busy Bee drops pollen on willing ancients.

Busy Bee pedistals his golden queen.

But she don’t know who he has been.

Busy Bee, Killer Bee, finally ending even me.


~ by Joy Suzanne Grazer on August 14, 2009.

5 Responses to “Familiar Sting”

  1. this is great!

  2. This is my favorite so far because of your stark picture of what is in a human soul with a dead spirit giving light over all the darkness. The fuller they are, the more empty they become though it seems they are being filled all the time. Without God’s life, our hearts can contain the whole world and still not be satisfied, always needing more – forever. The ultimate lie.

  3. i think i know!

  4. I really like this poem. The image of this “busy bee” causing all this trouble for “proper ladies”

  5. Wow. You must have really been hurt. Or whoever wrote this.

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