The Deal I have with Queen Bee

I’m walking on a bridge

Made of ivy vines

Each step

Lets out a hiss, releasing

clouds of pollen into the air

The bees soak it up

Like natures sponges

There are hives

Hidden directly beneath the bridge

The bees are clever

 

I keep walking

Till I meet the Queen Bee

We sit down and sip tea together

Discussing politics

And the weather

I cut to the chase

“So, where is the honey?”

I see her breaking down into fits of tears

I am numb to her pain

Reluctantly, she points to wheelbarrows

Full of jars of honey

I walk them back

One by one

Over the bridge made of ivy

Feeling the hatred

From the many eyes of the bees

Hovering, very close

Author: Jack Bennett

Born and raised in Torquay, England. 22 years old. Teeming with thoughts that need an outlet, working a full time job at his local supermarket. Unfortunately born a poet, he will most likely suffer from this contradiction most of his life.

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