The Bees Poem by Charl JF Cilliers
The Bees
They moved in on one
youthful springtime afternoon
and settled in the shape
of a honeycomb balloon.
And we could hear them there
through the glass panorama of sliding doors
sewing together with humming thread
the spring sun’s oozing rich gold store.
We watched but never approached
desired but never touched
throughout spring as the rich store grew
guarded by what we never knew.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 3:58:41 PM # 1.0.0.1119
nice poem, your ending is superb, well written poem, thanks for sharing.
Thank you, Shakil! Charl