Monday April 1st, 2013

The exercise:

Write about: the bee.

The apricot trees are in bloom and the orchard is buzzing with the newly arrived bees. Pictures to come.

I've mentioned this in previous years, but for those of you just joining us: I think April Fools' Day is stupid. So don't expect any pranks around here.

Got back to weeding the strawberries today, which is finally nearing completion. Also did some more greenhouse work with Kat, which is nowhere near completion.

Mine:

Buzzing from blossom to blossom,
Doing the work we will not do;
Such busy little worker bees -
These trees would be lost without you.

Population dropping worldwide,
For a reason we cannot see;
Hurry humans to the rescue,
Before our hourglass empties...

4 Comments:

David said...

The girl watched the queen bee. Sitting, waiting for the workers to appear. Some may call it sloth, but the little girl admired the regal gracefulness exuded as the queen silently directed her minions.

The workers arrived, making their tireless journey to appease the queen. After hours of hard work,they dropped their wares at her feet. The queen ended the audience by turning her back on them. Payment for a day's labor.

The girl spotted a lone drone languishing on the outskirts. She sensed the queen watched him as well. He struggled towards her, flying intermittently, weakly bouncing along the ground. He pushed through his pain, doing his duty, to serve the queen. The drone fell from the sky once more, landing on the girl's Nikes. He crawled to the grass, buzzing his wings, attempting another take off. The girl watched his effort. He took off, but immediately crashed into the runway, his body violently mangled. Many airline disasters take weeks or months to uncover the cause of the crash. There would be no inquiry today, it was a white Nike 6.0 that caused this harm. The girl ground the feeble drone into the grass, ending his useful life. She looked to the queen, knowing she had pleased her highness.

MosesMalone said...

There can only be one Queen Bee, and she knows it. She spends all her time creating her sweet perfect world. Or should I say she has all her little worker bees creating her perfect little queen bee world. She doesn’t gather anything herself. No, she has worker bees for the dirty work. She even has janitor bees cleaning up her mess. She certainly isn’t guarding and protecting her own skanky queen bee ass. Oh no… she has workers for that. When she feels like her little world is over crowded with admiring doting bees doing everything she wants, she gets bored and moves on. Her last piece of amusement is that she leaves behind all these hand picked queen bees to kill each other for the coveted spot. In my school, her name is Marybeth F’n Carson. What a bitch! I was her best friend. I was her protector. I took 3 different beers on 3 different occasions to the head for her, I was suspended for her cigarettes, and I was grounded a month because she smashed my mom’s Lexus. She didn’t even let me replace her. I’m not even in the running for Queen Bee. Stupid Ho.

A note from Mo: I must note that even though I like writing from a teenagers prospective, I am not one nor do I actually think/ speak these actual words. Ha! But I feel very strongly that my teenager self is always around. Oh, and I hate bees!!!!

MosesMalone said...

I loved David's! Anytime, a girls Nike's are involved I am instantly sucked in.

Marc said...

David - I find this little girl delightfully creepy. In written form. I suspect in person, I'd drop the 'delightfully' :P

Mo - teens can be a lot of fun to write. Therapeutic sometimes, too :)