I'm humbler than a bumble,
With wings like wispy gauze:
On pollen hunts, my sting is blunt
When busy out of doors.
No habit-forming swarming
Through wild and angry air!
Inside my comb, it's welcome home -
For honey I don't care.
All folk may stroke me slowly
On black and orange fuzz.
I'll feed you well on royal jelly,
Moderate my buzz.
But wait! A waspish rival
Has put me to the test -
So now I'll drive you from my hive
Though smoke will fill the nest.
All bees, they say, are social:
Well, that's as might-have-been -
All apiarists are on my list.
Beware. God Save The Queen.
