bee | Roland's Ragbag

SOMETIMES

Sometimes
at first tread of dawn
I sense the dampness of the dew
as it cossets the grass to refresh my world

Sometimes
in the morning’s glow
I feel the sun’s insistence
on bringing me joy for another day

Sometimes
amidst the midday murmur
I hear the singing of my garden’s flowers
intent on making their presence known to me

Sometimes
in the heat of the afternoon
I feel the bee’s ardent resolve
its need to garner the fragrant lavender’s love

Sometimes
in the evening’s stillness
I am aware of the blackbird’s impulse
to trill its sugared song to thrill my enfeebled soul

Sometimes
in the dead of night
I am awoken by the moon’s resolve
to lighten my darkness with its lambent glow

And sometimes
When life’s burdens are upon me
I respond to Nature’s showcased beauty
With renewed resolve to remain a beneficiary of such grace

rupert-and-trepur

Anthropomorphic Feelings

I sometimes think and wonder
How do other creatures feel
When they meet a rather common human trait?
Do they moan and feel like us
Do they ponder, think, discuss,
Or is it that they can’t articulate?

# # #

Can a caterpillar cry
Does it ever feel regret
In its small world does it feel as we do feel;
Can it laugh when it is glad
Does it cry when it is sad
Does it ever feel it’s getting a raw deal?

And what about a cat,
Does it worry when it’s fat,
Does it tell itself to change its attitude?
Does it think “Well. Fancy that,
I’d rather like that rat,
But I really must cut out the fancy food?”

And take the little wasp
When it’s supping from your glass
Does it ever think “Well, that’s enough for me,
I’d better get back home,
For I’ve left the wife alone.
I don’t want her propositioned by a bee?”

When a spider gets leg cramp
Does it leap up and foot stamp,
All eight feet drumming till the sharp pain goes?
You can’t tell an arachnid
To be placid, (is that hackneyed?),
Or to stretch its legs and wiggle all its toes.

Does an anchovy not wonder
When it’s swimming in the sea
Why so many of its mates just disappear?
Or why every little fish
Should end up in a dish
And swigged down with a glass of frothy beer?

Does a mayfly feel quite old
When it gets to twelve o’clock
Knowing well it’s reached the end of its short span?
Does it ever feel regret
Does it not feel ready yet
To end up in that final garbage can?

Does a badger when it hibernates
Need to get up for the loo,
Or does it just imagine digging holes?
‘Cos I bet it can’t be troubled
And is just a bit befuddled
While dreaming of those tasty juicy moles.

When a greenfly knows it’s pregnant
Does it dare to tell its mum?
Is it frightened to be seen with that big tum?
Does it go into retreat
Does it hide its little feet
And just sit tight until its time has come?

And what about mosquitoes
When they take a bite or two
From any passer-by, and without question?
Do they ever stop and think
Now what did this chap drink
That’s giving me this awful indigestion?

Does a rabbit ever worry
When it’s losing all its hair?
Does moulting make it think it’s going bald?
Perhaps it dreads the thought,
Gets upset and overwrought,
Completely overwhelmed and quite appalled.

# # #

So when I’m beset with sorrows,
Feeling there’ll be no tomorrows,
I’ll just think of how these creatures get along.
When feeling a bit off
With a headache or a cough
I’ll know it’s to creation I belong.