Spring
The wind is whooshing through my window.
Gentle gusts and whistling winds,
Serving notice,
Spring is here!
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Friday, March 19, 2010
A Winter's Poem
Busy bee,
To your hive do flee.
Hibernate quick,
Before winter's cold kiss.
Dream of spring and pollen,
And warm sun drops of gold.
4/6/10: I guess bees don't really hibernate. they become torpid and form a huge mass in the hive about the size of a football to conserve heat, frequently rotating from inside to outside and back in. However, I am going to let my little poem stand.
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