Wildflower Honey

I once knew a flower,
a flower so grown.
She was the wildest of wildflowers
I ever had known.

Her petals fully blossomed
and stigma so sweet.
All the young bee-boys
wanted her for a treat.

But she would deny them
and ever so sad,
the very young bee-boys
flew away for she had,

petals fully blossomed
and stigma so sweet.
Oh please, begged the bee-boys.
Won't you please let us eat,

just a little of your pollen?
It is all that we ask!
We are so very hungry
from todays flying task.

The flower bowed her head
and shed a dewy tear.
There is a reason, young bee-boys,
I don't want you near.

You see when I was just a bud
a young bee-boy loved me.
We shared so many moments
and each others company.

But when it came, time to make,
a baby bee-boy child,
my pollen sweet, he could not take,
for it was far too wild.

You see I am not fertile,
as the roses by the rye.
The lilacs and the lilies
have more fertility than I.

I cannot give you children,
I told the young bee-boy.
So he found a fertile bud
and child he could enjoy.

My petals are fully blossomed,
and my stigma is so sweet.
But my heart is nearly broken
and I feel so incomplete.

Do not feel so worthless,
the young bee-boys all cried.
We have a special recipe,
to you we will confide.

There is a certain pollen,
wildflowers alone can make,
and with that flower's pollen
a delicious treat we bake.

A gooey mess of golden brown,
some may call it runny.
But the rest of us young bee-boys,
we like to call it honey.

Only you can help us,
our blossomed wildflower.
So let us in your knickers
and your pollen we'll devour.

Copyright © 2006 Nobody

- I do not know what possessed me to write this. ;) There are a bit more morals than I intended.