Around and round a drone yellow bee,
Sipping nectar brewed for humble bee nuns,
Probes each purple floret gleefully,
She draws her head, crawls on the crown,
To the next fresh floret on the way
As she works her row around
Soon lands a sister aslant of the first,
Commencing to work, she’s filling a need,
Fresh flower faces yet to nurse,
Black elbows caked in yellow, persistent on she plows
Sexing pistils curved in rows,
Countless hundreds on the bough
Virtuous drone, do you know the difference
Between your honeycomb hexes, and
These wild flowers that you mate, (or even what sex is?)
When you’re done here to another you’ll move
Where on you’ll work, chaste making love,
Another virgin rendezvous
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