What’s it to do with me?

Don’t look at me she said there’s nothing to be done 

I am only a single person and honey , eat none 

Even if I cared about it who’d listen to me? 

I’m not a politician or someone who hugs the trees 

Her eyebrows raise and she looks devoid of caring 

There’s more for me to think about than insects and daring 

Probe a little deeper and you find her insecure 

Confused at others worlds that to her appear poor 

So pointing out that little bee as the key to her own life 

Her mind makes little connection 

Anger stems forcing her to demand (with jabbing finger) 

Show me it’s work that’s worth the linger 

One by one her plate is carved till precious little remains 

The flowers on the table gone 

Her shock now plain 

And ringing in her ears are the words 

This is what these creatures do and this the thanks they get! 

Without their help you don’t eat if they come to harm 

Their work continues only if we’re careful in our world 

The food chain isn’t a pretty name for golden threads 

You snap this one and the earth can end up dead.



Author: ailsacawley

I have written since I can remember, devouring the stories of Roald Dahl under the covers by torchlight. I have always loved fairy tales, myths and magic. A good deal of the things I write has some truth in it. Others, not. I’m pleased you dropped by, please feel free to leave me a comment or if you’re kind enough to share that’s fine. ☺️

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