Elizabeth The Bumble Bee
Elizabeth the bumble bee
Lives in the hollow of an old oak tree.
She buzzes around from dawn until dusk
Collecting the pollen for her own secret store
Her honey pots lay on top of a shelf
That she was clever enough to build for herself
From wood she collected from old potting sheds
And fixed to the wall with tiny clothes pegs
Her front door is made of twigs from birch trees
The windows are covered in curtains of green
Made from the leaves of hawthorn and ash
From hedgerows she visits, just in a flash
The floor of her house is clean and well kept
A tiny red broom with which it is swept
Leans to the right of the little front door
Behind creaking hinges, an oil lamp and more
A three legged stool dainty and bright
Sits beside the fireside
Where Elizabeth sits in evening’s dark
By the light of a candle especially made
From beeswax and honey she secretly saves
Elizabeth sleeps through the dark of the night
And upon the coming of the morning light
She opens her window and stretches her arms
Stamping her feet to keep them warm
Her bright stripey jumpers and boots of pot black
Are given a shine of polish so that
They glow in the sunlight and dark evening clouds
And are easy to find when her feet touch the ground
Her wings are dusted every day
And her pillows are plumped
On her bed of sweet hay
As she busily flutters about her home
Counting her honey pots with a gentle hum
She opens the door to the world outside
Wings outstretched like a butterfly
She rises above the golden fields
And flies to the distant narrow lanes
Poppies and bluebells grow side by side
And foxgloves are tall enough for her to hide
Deep in the pretty pink tubular bell
Where the sweet smell of pollen fills the dell
Tiny forget-me-nots look out of place
As she hops around from mid-air to space
Collecting the pollen in tiny gold bags
To turn into nectar in honey pots glass
The sweet honeycomb she stores in her pantry
And when she is sure that she has plenty
The honey is poured into all of the pots
To add to the porridge and pancakes she cooks
Elizabeth is a good bumblebee
Although a little greedy maybe
For she stores the honey
In order to be as bright and healthy as can be
So when you awake on a warm sunny day
And you notice a bee on a flower in May
With a stripey bright jumper and black polished boots
Think of Elizabeth as she gently pours
The sweet yellow honey into her store
Watch as she hops from garden to tree
And back to the petals of sweet Williams new
And around again to roses of yellow
Bouncing and humming for just me and you
The End
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