Wednesday, February 18, 2009


(Upon catching a cold bumblebee, and warming him in a jar. He was a great show and tell!)

A bumblebee
Is after me
So furry full of buzz
His yellow stripes
And tail that bites
And soft forbidden fuzz
Are at a loss
To fly across
So at a loss, he does.
He parks upon
The chilling lawn
And frost approaching down
Reversed the gears
And dowsed all fears
While stifling his sound.
He cannot fly
When cold is by
He overbid his time
And now a jar
Will bring him far
To feed the hungry minds.

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