The flower and the bee


You are with your intensive giving

And childish ways so dear to see

Mysterious flower joyfully gathering

Honey and sweetness extracting

All the strength there is in me


You are with your irregular flight

An insect of much constructing

Active womanhood daydreams pursuing

Working for the world and might,

But with a deadly sting


As the sunflower turns clockwise

In search of higher nourishment

The mirror of vanity and beauty contemplating

Conceit and appraisal for the eyes

That blindly would not guess the punishment


And yet returning to its hive

With the nectar well secure

On speedy undecided landing

Neither to give or to take life

Just to appear immature


As invariably does the flower

Before it fructifies.

The sense of its existence losing

As the queen of social power

Friend and lover crucifies

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