The changeless wind, in the bushes.
Civilisation rushes
Ever faster.
Then, the disaster
Of corona, makes everything, slow.
Yet I
See bees go,
Busily by.
The Changeless Wind, in the Bushes
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Tag Archives: bees
There Was A Young Man Called Clive
There was a young man called Clive
Who sat on a beehive.
With a pearcing scream
He awoke from his dream,
That fortunate young man called Clive!
A Fragment
The flower radiant with spring’s promise glows
The bee of sweet nectar sups, tarries perchance awhile then goes.
K Morris - Poet 