today i met an Apiarist*
checking on his bee's
thinking i'd assist
he then shouted freeze
asking whats the matter
said 'queen is on your head'
earth around did shatter
thinking soon i'll be dead
swarm of bees did gather
he grabbed some bees wax spray
getting into such a lather
my hair went really gray
'hang on there, your doing well'
saying with a sickly grin
thinking flipping hell
he went home for gin
well this queen wouldn't buzz
buzzing all over my body
my eyes began to fuzz
thought Apiarist what a hobby
buzzing here buzzing there
this queen got on my wick
she didn't seem to care
even when i waved a stick
other bees had a look
glancing all around me
then i grabbed a book
hitting them with glee
book was Apiarist hard back guide
taught you, how to do it right
i sprayed, some pesticide
and set there beehive alight
well that didn't go down swell
in my dangled beard they thrive
although a honeycombed smell
my wife's lost her sex drive
(Apiarist -beekeeper) *
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem