Gold for a Bee

A really silly sonnet. It is, however, scientifically sound!

For what else should excite the bees

So much as nectar on the breeze

Scented from a garden gate

Behind which azure flowers wait?

 

A worker bee cannot describe

Such subtle splendor to her tribe;

But lacking words, she wastes no time

And dances maps in pantomime.

 

Then when, at last, the scouts arrive

(having traveled miles from the hive)

Gather up as much as they can hold

And spin their bounty into gold:

Ah, how sweet to be a bee

And deal in honeyed currency!