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"Bee to the blossom- moth to the flame; Each to his passion..." - H.H.Jackson, 'My father was a beekeeper before me- his father was a beekeeper before him; I wanna walk in their footsteps." And their footsteps were like this: [running wildly] "I'm covered in bees!", Edward Lear, Jugs — a Universe's fracture, Like trains of cars on tracks of plush I hear the level bee, Nonesense rhymes that mean a great deal to the bees, Ordained Fuzz, Poetry, splenetic fleas
If you found the wings story chewy, take a breath and suspend your belief (and suspenders in relief) yet further and channel . . . Edward Lear. – nods
The Pleas of the Bombinating Bees
You know, it wasn’t such an easy squeeze as I made my way across roots (giddy knees set to seize), between those populous poplar trees — especially knowing the situation (a tricky one to tease, if you please) with the fuzzy-bummed bumblers, the mumblers, the bees — fully aiming to appease (an uneasy wheeze) the humdrum tumbling, grumbling buzz of bombinating pleas.
Z…
z…
z…
Midst the bombastic burden of a building unease, I unearthed the captive’s keys from the grip of splenetic fleas, freed them from their mephitic, metaphorical Mephistopheles (and by the Gods of anopheles aforesaid bees were exceedingly pleased).
Z…
z…
z…
Forevermore flying (as if skidding on skis) in threes, away to party went those geezer-bees and bees chemised, dancing a polka on pollinated air to Rimsky’s Flight of the Bumblebee. The escapees at jocular ease, well . . . with my oculars I spotted them, upon that honeyed breeze.
Esme's Cloud 
Damn Esme, you definitely buzzzz right along!
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I know the bees and the bees know me. Whilst picking peonies this summer I managed to impale myself – the poor bee had its stinger almost the whole way through the pad of my forefinger and was wriggling its wee legs, waggling its wings and buzzing frantically; it was incredibly painful (for me at least, no fun for the bee) but I chatted to the bee in soothing tones, went and found a slim twig and slow but sure had it grip on and pull itself out . . . intact! Onto another peony was the bee placed and sat there almost completely still. I waited and watched, and shortly afterwards it was back gathering pollen and appeared unharmed for the whole ordeal. I wish I could say the same for my finger, however physical pain such as this is fleeting when you compare it to even the days in a week, let alone a lifetime so I knew it would pass (unlike the Balrog) and pass it did. I’ve been stung by hornets, but the bees aren’t interested in fighting and don’t seem angry, even though they have cause to be when you think about it. Gotta love the bees, man!
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Well Esme, once again you have bee-dalized Tubularsock.
Cheers.
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Bee rescue …. so powerful. The venom is supposedly good for arthritis and many ailments. Thank you for contributing to the thriving of them all 💕. We have had three hives of honey bees for a few years … and this year something became amiss. Their behavior became erratic and aggressive. Two of the three hives started to fail, and there wasn’t a strong queen to take over. And so we are nursing one hive through the winter and will introduce a new strain of bees into the other two hives. There is only so much we can do to prevent predators and the chemicals in the environment. Bees are close to my heart 🐝💛🐝
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Well, I didn’t know that, they even help when they sting you eh? I love bees too, they figure in the book a few times and I also have one inked upon my body somewhere (not my heart, terribly painful place to have needles stuck in is the ribcage). You are doing a sterling job Val, and they all appreciate it too. I’m not surprised they’re pissed off mind. Lose the bees and we are lost too. ❤ 🐝
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The venom is supposedly good for arthritis and many ailments
As a sufferer from severe early-onset arthritis, I’m intrigued by this. Do you know what the active ingredient is called, and whether it’s available in less stinging form?
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I was told this by an acupuncturist healer … after I got stung. He didn’t suggest a safe alternative. I have arthritis too, but I’d rather having that pain than another bee sting!! If you find out more, please let me know 💛
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Watch this!
https://987theriver.iheart.com/content/2018-05-10-woman-rescues-wingless-queen-bee-and-builds-her-a-tiny-garden/
Scottish too!
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That brought a wee tear to my eye and opened my heart. Thank you for sharing Esme 💕🙏💕
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Me too Val. The smallest of actions can open hearts the widest sometimes, and this is a kindness to behold on a wonderful scale. x
Esme Cloud ❤
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The insects bless the one who frees
Them from their keeper, before he’s
Removed their honey, paying no fees;
An act to which no bee agrees.
The subtle taste of gay Paree’s
Most exquisite, expensive cheese
Is scarce reward enough for these
Great acts of bee-ophile mercies.
Yes, even dirty chimpanzees,
If watching you on their TVs
Would climb atop their tall chimneys
And praise you for eternities.
(With apologies to Esme, and any other poets in the immediate vicinity…..)
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This is a marvel! I love it. One of the core points of the Cloud’s existence is inspiration, be that through any form of art presented, and by the Gods of all sizes here you are! I’m so chuffed with this Infidel and so should you be. I’d say there’s no such thing as bad poetry, but that’s patently not true, for some is eye stabbingly bad, however, yours is a cracker and made me laugh a lot. The bees will be pleased as the chimpanzees too, no doubt about it.
Thank you!
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You are far too kind to my ghastly doggerel (bee-gerel?). In truth I feel I can do better, but often I refuse to let rhyme constrain me.
We all inspire each other at times, I think. After reading your angel-wing story, I fully intend to take a look at some of your earlier posts when I have time. Hard to believe I originally stumbled across your blog in the guise of a figurative load of bollocks.
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I know! Hahahahaha, and how miffed I was that the hordes stampeded to the Cloud to read about said bollocks rather than, well almost anything else falls about. I’m afraid my library is rather complicated and muddled, which was intentional way back when I arrived upon the Cloud as I was a shy creature hidden the bushes with muddy fingers and a scowl that might any minute turn into a smile. But hidden none-the-less. I didn’t allow re-blogs back then. It was all very hush- hush, however, the years have emboldened Esme some, and here she is doing the can-can for a few hundred pilgrims arriving each day from your fine gaff.
This is one of my favourite poems written by myself (me and eye) (for fear you’ll just find more bollocks):
All my regular bloggers came from following through comments on blogs I was already reading and indeed we mix in the same circles, and fine circles they are. I want people not stats, it’s a community of sorts and they all pop over to the Cloud at some point, which is nice as I am a bugger for managing to get to their blogs very often (good reasons, honest guv). They are a fine faithful bunch and I’m very glad to have you join them Infidel shakes his hand vigorously. I’ve only ever had to throw one person off the edge too!
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Bombination — a bombly bumbly burst of bounteous beauty.
Inspired me to discover my initials: B Z — buzzingly.
The Flight of the Bumblebee soundtrack perfected the moment — brilliantly,
onomatopoetically 🙂
Bzzzzzzily, Bumbledy Boo
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I’ve just found this wonderful wee story, I’ve shown Val and here it bee for ye Bill.
https://987theriver.iheart.com/content/2018-05-10-woman-rescues-wingless-queen-bee-and-builds-her-a-tiny-garden/
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A buoying imbued story inbeed, Esme. A vivid and bright connection to the missing wings in Simulcast 4201596. Fiona’s keen insight, compassion, and quick attention, a call to action, to beeing on this tiny planet.
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It’s good to know there are other souls who care so much for littlest beings, and yes, I hadn’t thought of that, lovely connection to my wingless one Bill!
Esme and the wingless bees wearing parachutes upon the Cloud
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“…and yes, I hadn’t thought of that, lovely connection to my wingless one…”
Making the mention of a connection all the more wondrous. 🙂
— Bill, finding garden homes for the wingless bees
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My slugs are my passion. Bobby Slug, Sandra, Peter slug with his cute stalks. Days I lie in the garden, my tongue extended like a patio for my slug lovelies.
Do you love slugs?
I have pictures.
[tho’ your bee personal story goes into the top 10 obvs x]
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I love slugs as much as I love snails; people are shellist, they hate slugs and erk and gah at them, yet pop a wee shell on their backs and call them Brian and they’re apparently cute as hell (see Magic Roundabout (for the shame of Florence’s hair alone)). This makes no sense to me at all. I’ve had to have a word with them all about the back door (no filth), but they seemed to get my drift (no salt involved, nor beer (for them)).
‘Do you love slugs?
I have pictures.’ – This sounds like a drug deal. That doesn’t put me off. I have many bee photos and a great deal of Ladybirds turning from crusty creatures into their spotted finality but I have no slug photos. If you have a group shot I’ll be impressed.
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