Strolling Through The Woods Poem by Charles Garcia
Strolling Through The Woods
While strolling through the woods one day hanging from a tree
I witnessed a thousand bees or more,
Clamoring to get inside a hive to do what they do best.
Their wings, as a fan giving off a resonating sound,
“As an Orchestra in tune trying to find its key.
I dare not stir or make a sound or move, let them be.
As how does one defend themselves against a nest of swarming bees.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/28/2026 9:40:21 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
