I spied a little yellow bee,
dancing around an apple tree,
trying to get a taste of its fruits.
Perched above it silently,
on a branch in the tree,
a brown thrasher shot out from its roost.
I watched on as the bee,
tried its best to zoom and flee,
yet the bird was locked on its target and pursued.
The bee dove down in debris,
at the root of that same tree,
and behind him the bird followed suit.
Since my eyes did not see,
I think we all can agree,
that darned little yellow bee became bird food.
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Random *SS Poems
PoetryA collection of random poems I came up with. I AM NOT A POET, but thought these were cute
