Tuesday, August 19, 2008

The Bee by Emily Dickinson


Like trains of cars on tracks of plush
I hear the level bee.
A jar across the flowers goes,
Their velvet masonry.

Withstands until the sweet assault
Their chivalry consumes
While he, victorious, tilts away
To vanquish other blooms.

His feet are shod with gauze,
His helmet is of gold;
His breast, a single onyx
With chrysoprase, inlaid.

His labor is a chant,
His idleness a tune.
Oh, for a bee's experience
Of clovers and of noon!

~Emily Dickinson~

Photos of this busy little bee taken by me.


Janet said...

Beautiful photographs again, Denise, and a lovely poem

Denise said...

Hi Janet, thanks so much.

Strawberry Jam Anne said...

That is lovely Denise - photos and poem. I love bees and we are lucky to have the sort of plants in our garden that they appear to love. A x

Denise said...

I'm always fascinated by them Anne. Fortunately I have never been stung by one.

Eve said...

Hi Denise! My blog updater is not updating!! I have to catch up! Love the Emily poem and the pictures you took! Thank you!!

Denise said...

You are so very welcome Eve. Glad you enjoyed it.