A bee and a cardiologist
I have patched it up with my cardiologist
I sent her one of my books and when I saw her apologised
For my behaviour, and with my new eye
I could see her clearly, but didn`t say so,
I like to burrow my head in her wonderful hair.
Sleep with her in a bed of feather till my heart is cured
Told my wife I was in love with my doctor,
She called me an idiot and said fetch the car while she
Waited In the foyer as it was raining.
I wonder why I`m so angry at time it is like having a bee
Inside my head sting me to be unpleasant and shout
At people, no point seeing a psychologist when
An apiculturist might be cheaper to help me getting rid of
The bee; if so, no more honey on my tongue
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem