A Bees Protest Poem by Biff McGuire

While servicing Squash with a watering can
A bee flew out buzzin’ as if to say “scram”
How can I fly ‘round here and sample the nectar?
When you’re making a waterfall out of this sector

I wanted to tell him, (but know not the words)
There’s a thicket of currants that’s loved by the birds
Not far from here, you’ll be there in a minute!
With blossoms so sweet you would want to drown in it

He then took another quick stab at my face
His way of saying “get out of my space”
I’ve been here with my family (of many more bees)
In a hive making honey, for three centuries

Your decade of homesteading here on this land?
A pathetic excuse, as you gather with hands
Our honey; you steal like a thief in the night!
While smoking us out, it just doesn’t seem right

When you put it that way (I thought to myself)
I do not deserve all these jars on my shelf
But I shan’t give them back; it’s too late for that too!
Instead I’ll cooperate out here with you

When I water my plants I’ll make sure you’re not there
I’ll inspect and turn over each leaf; I do care!
And won’t steal the sweets you work so hard to make
Unless through my help, I have earned a small take.