First Bee of Spring

I saw a boozy bumblebee
buzzing in a cherry tree,
in among the blossom
drenched with dew.
It flew onto a window ledge
near a blooming hawthorn hedge,
just to say hello to me and you.

Spring bees are parched for sips
of sweet pollen from the lips
of wayward hedgerow
flowers of every hue.
A swarm of bees in May
is worth a heap of hay,
but in June they’ll be worth a silver spoon.

Kim M. Russell,   7^th April 2026

On the seventh day of NaPoWriMo, the optional prompt comes from a poem by Cecily Parks, ‘Front Yard Rhyme’, in which she evokes the sing-songy beats that accompany girls’ clapping games, and jump-rope and skipping rhymes. Our challenge is to write poems that emulate these songs – something to snap, clap, and jump around to.