Queen Bee

Posted on 8 Comments

Queen Bee


When yellow rain showers

germinate goldenrod

flowers’ sweet nectar hour

I become queen.

Pollen baskets yield my fame,

until drones die to mate

then mate to die—

HIV of those who

fly beneath my wing.

I close my eyes,

respect their darkness,

and lick their short-haired shells.

Then realize as the skyline’s

kissed by dawn…


this moment is mine.


Shawn R. Jones

Reprinted from Womb Rain

(Finishing Line Press, 2008)

8 Responses

  1. Insight says:

    Amazing! 🙂


  2. soumyav says:

    this is beautifully metaphored!

  3. You are so talented, the imagery of your words painted a picture in my mind as if i was there among the bees! Beautifully done Shawn! God bless!

  4. Khaula Nazir says:

    That was indubitably a masterpiece!!! Seriously, I don’t think that you are a published novelist just because you write, you have SOME GREAT TALENT!

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