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Friday, 21 February 2014

Forlorn Bee


A Solitary rose stood aloof
In a garden of gorgeous
Bloom, in ostentatious extravaganza
The crimson rose, clad in
A veil of unspoken despondency
The dew-drops on its petals
Spoke of its agony

The forlorn bee sat clumsily
On the branch of a deciduous shrub
Segregated from the evergreens
A passionate desire to
Drink up the bitter nectar
Of gloom and share the grief
Of the rose, brought it down

With a soft hum, mumbled
The bee, “What ails you?”
Eager to conceal its ailment
The solitary rose remained silent
The dejected bee flew back
With indifference to the neglect
Which was it’s lot.

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