How It Should Bee…

How it should bee…

(A memory)

Ssssh
Listen…
Modern world blocking the transmission?
Too much traffic?
A world too erratic

Does the whispering grass
still play a tune
Or has brick and mortar
brought it to ruin?

This world is so fast!
Take me back to the past!
It makes such a  din
I don’t know where to begin!

And cars,
bloody cars everywhere!
If I had any left,
I’d pull out my hair!

In times of old
Footpaths were the roads
Shanks’ pony was the way
To find work or for play
Or to find rest…
With picnic in hand the best!

The wind would blow
Through the old-town meadow
Whispering soft tunes
As if from a cello

Or at least that’s what I heard
(Or my imagination proffered)
It was the sun, you see
Upon the wheat and the grass
Us lazy bees in a honey-glazed mass

We buzzed lightly back then
Not much of a sound
A languid summers day
Seemed so easily found

And Mother bee
could always be found
Passing sweet lemonade
and sandwiches around

They tasted like heaven
In the glow of the sun
In the warmth of our hive
No need to hurry or run

We didn’t need much
But the comfort of others
The firm, but loving hands
Of our sisters and brothers

But all are now gone
Like the sweet mist of morn
Drifting away gently
To allow a new dawn

Nowadays,
the buzz is too loud
It fills my old head
Dark clouds through my window
Is what I spy from my bed

But if I close my eyes tight
And snuggle right down
I’m back in the old meadow
With that lovely cello sound

I think this is where I’ll stay now
After all,  it’s where I belong
With all the little bees of old
All happily buzzing along