I believe that God made bees 

to keep the flowers blooming

little messengers they’ll be

passing notes of love between

all my vain immobile beauties

But soon the bees got tired to

the flowers’ thankless attitudes

wings caked with pollen off they flew 

each night into their empty combs

humming, dreaming

of a flowerless world

So the queen was sent to God

She danced a message without words

A dance as only bees can turn

telling not of fields of new clover 

or golden apple tree orchards 

but of dark and lonely souls