, , , ,

It wasn’t an easy squeeze, between those poplar trees
On my knees, knowing the situation with the bees.

Aiming to appease their bombinating pleas, the building unease, I unearthed the captive’s keys, and they were exceedingly pleased.

From that day evermore they always flew in threes, some said it was a jocular disease,
Caught from escapee splenetic fleas…..Oh purlease.