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Bee Poem
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Twas a Rambling Thought Before Christmas by
The Weekend Beekeeper

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the hive
Not a creature was stirring, was there anything alive?
The apistan strips were hung on the frames with care,
In hopes that Varroa mites would soon disappear.

The larvae were nestled all snug in their rooms,
While the sweet smell of honey filled all of the combs.
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my white suit,
Had just tapped our glasses for a long winter’s whoot.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
Oh crap its the bees what the hell is the matter?
Away to the window I flew like a drone,
Tore open the shutters and uttered a moan.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should I now see,
But a new deadly virus called CCD.

With an often used curse, I yelled smartly and quick,
I knew in a moment this was no trick.
More rapid than foulbrood or that other damned mite,
My bees began dying what a pitiful sight.

“Now Menthol! now, Apistan! now, Fumidil B!
On, Formic Acid! On, Oils! and Garlic by me, !
From the top of the cover I dump you in enmasse!
This one is sure to work I nervously laughed.

Mount Toxicitus forms on my bee’s bottom most boards,
With compound eyes pleading they utter their last words!”
“Why oh Why do you treat us this way!”
“We give you free honey nary ask you to pay!”

And then, with their last gasps they fall down into the cloud,
Of Terramycin powder, their burial shroud.
As I drew in my head, and began turning around,
The wallet on my wife’s dresser began making a sound.

Ha Ha! You fool this entomological hobby you do,
Will cost you another two thousand hundred and two.
How much honey last year did you sell,
Did you give it all away again. Please pray tell?

I knew he had me, the game was all up.
But I laughed anyway and through my hands up.
“So what!” I shrugged, and gave him a look.
At least I dont R.C. model, get drunk, or scrapbook.

Beekeeping is different than most hobbies you do,
It requires perseverance, OK, having money helps too.
But even aside the troubling expense,
It’s done for personal enrichment am I making some sense?

Life moves to fast and always sprinting that race,
robs you of appreciation for a much simpler pace.
Beekeeping gives you focus on a single moment in time,
Beyond yesterday or tomorrow and only the sublime.

Startled, I realized what was happening to me,
I was talking to a wallet at AM quarter to three.
It was Christmas Day and the hour was soon here,
when up from my bed I would jump with a cheer.

But now its too early and the my wife will be peeved,
if I wake her up on Christmas eve.
So to fellow beekeepers who struggle to read what I write,
I wish you all a Merry Christmas and have a good night.

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