While I was napping by a tree

I met a portly bumblebee

He droned up with an air of grace

And gently ‘lighted on my face

I watched him with a mild concern

Hoping I was not to learn

Now of all times and all things

That I was allergic to bee stings

The kindly insect buzzed away

Having blessed me on his way

To Heaven knows what tiny place

Or vast meadows and flowery space

But left some dust that caused an itch

While my nostrils began to twitch 

I reached up and brushed away

Some grime that sparkled in sun’s ray

The flecks of pollen, golden, gleaming

Anointing my face and hand and seeming

To me like the Scripture verse

That warns ‘gainst living tense or terse

For in His bounty He bestowed

Raiment upon the flowers, thus glowed

The pollen in my hand so fresh

Like dew caught in a spider’s mesh

Like flowers putting king to shame

And good things that to sparrows came

This golden dust from bloom of flower

Bears a strong and curious power

No gold coin of man could muster

Or could cause the grapes to cluster

But currency of bees can cause

The fruit to grow, though through God’s laws

And as I sat there pondering

A spider crawled by wandering

With many legs and silken line

Weaving nets both thin and fine

But I durst not shy away

In case it came to bless my day

With gifts or theology

Or musings, or poetry

---

This poem first appeared in 2021, in Heart unto Heart, published by FOCUS and LoveGood.