Gastronomista: A Slice of Truth

The Honey Bee

In the springtime, joyous spring-
time,
When the birds begin to sing,
And we hear the murmuring brook-
lets,
Then the bees are on the wing.
When the long, cold days are over
Bees are out to sip the dew
And the nectar from the clover,
Buttercups and daisies blue.

Supers placed above the beehive
For the honey bee to find,
Will be filled if showers are given
To the flowers of every kind.
Then the bees are kind and gentle
"Take it hog," they seem to say;
"We will work again the harder
After the next rainy day.

"And we'll fill again the super,
We don't mind with you to share,
Early morn will find us busy
Gathering honey everywhere.
We just gladly gather honey,
And the wax from off our back
We produce, now is'nt it funny,
No material do we lack.

"For our queen cells we have polen,
Any egg a queen may be,
From the proper food and cover,
We produce a queen, you see.
If some drones we wish for mating,
Other food we must supply,
Just the food we give while waiting
For their hatching by and by."

"But when frost on field and hillside,
In the autumn kills the flower,
And in vain we search for honey,
In each glen and leafy bower,
Then in every hive is stationed
Guards to watch our winter's store,
For if you would rudely take it,
We would search in vain for more.

"And we sting with all our fury,
Take our honey if you dare,
For we want to keep from starving
In the winter, so beware."
There's a moral we may gather
From the busy bee for all,
Gather food stuff in the summer,
And protect it in the fall.