I watched a drowsy bee chew
through its wintertime cocoon
and emerge onto the edge
of a sunny window ledge.
After a sullen start to spring,
dandelions smile in grass.
A dragonfly helicopters past
cherry and honeysuckle bowers,
where flirty buds are bursting
to unfold a flurry of pink flowers
to bees, thirsty for heady sips
of pollen from dewy petal lips.
That’s why a swarm of bees in May
Is always worth a load of hay.
Kim M. Russell, 2nd May 2021
Image by Gaspar Costa on Unsplash
I reworked a very old poem into a sort of sonnet for Experiments in Fiction Mayday Sonnet Sunday.