For the Queen
In the hive, she is so well attended -
thousands of workers, all pleased to toil,
hundreds of soldiers keep her defended,
all for her, and her palace of soil.
But when it comes time, my queen, I'm afraid,
it will be just me bound purely to you.
No castle with servants, no knights to bade -
and I'm hardly a king; I must speak true.
I do not drink ambrosial nectar,
yet, somehow, with God's grace, I shall become:
worker, warrior, provider, protector,
merely a man, yet an army of one.
I must do it all, such pleasure to strive,
for love of my queen and fate of our hive!
24 March 2023
A SIMPLE POETRY CONTEST Poetry Contest sponsored by John lawless
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