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Friday, 24 January 2014

A Fist Full of Bees


 The bumble bees were furry
like your favourite cat

You caught them one by one
stroked  them gently
and held them in your tiny fist.

Their wings
tickled your skin
as they buzzed.

When your mother opened your hand
the bees escaped
and you cried

though you had not been stung.

**
A slightly different version of this poem was previously published on Ink, Sweat and Tears.

Based on Crafty Green Boyfriend's childhood memory....

As ever, red text contains hyperlinks that take you to other webpages where you can find out more

12 comments:

  1. What a beautiful memory to have

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  2. Decades ago, my daughter caught a bumble bee and tried to pet it. The bee stung her and she no longer tries to pet bees.

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  3. Oh my gosh what a powerful closing line!!

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  4. I love this poem, Juliet. I would have run a mile from a Bumblebee as a child, though I had no fear whatsoever of large horses and bulls!

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  5. I love this so much!

    Funny, our new cat, Prudie has now got the nickname, "Bumblebee". When we are preparing to feed her, she makes this funny noise that sounds like a hive of bees.

    I love how there was no sting in your poem's tale.

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  6. Beautiful! We had so many different types of bumble bee in our garden last summer, you wouldn't believe they are endangered.
    Son-the-younger is (ridiculously) terrified of bees and screams whenever he sees one, and he's never been stung either!

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  7. What a lovely memory and a sweet poem! Have a happy weekend!

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  8. Anonymous5:56 am

    what a lovely poem :) and memory

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  9. That's lovely - very evocative of childhood feelings.

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