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Air of Mysteries
I rule the beehive.
When I find a place with flowers,
I dance (pointing my worker bees the direction to go).
I have stripes--gold and black.
Gold--triumph; black--the unknown, creating an air of mystery.
“Humans--Scared of our stingers given by our creator of the universe.”
“Why anxious?” “Why run away?” “Why squash us against the wall?”
Humans shan't be afraid, worker bees are to do their jobs--not to harm others.
Don’t disturb us--then we must return the favor.
We are captivated--captivated to flowers with vivid colors--except,
we cannot--cannot see red…
That mystery remains. Will it, forever?
I have gold and black stripes.
Gold--triumph; Black--the unknown, creating an air of mystery.
You must help solve the mysteries--Some known--some unsolved.
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