Buzz, Buzz - Your Dead

One buzzing bee
Sat on my knee
One buzzing bee became two
And soon a hive was in my loo
Buzzing, buzzing everywhere
In the bath and in my hair
I tried to do the humane thing
And set about the task of smoking
The little buzzing blighters out
To no avail it didn’t work
Busy bees their work don’t shirk
The beeman came last Thursday eve
To persuade the Queen to up and leave
But she’s a stubborn little girl
Without the requisite forehead curl
She refused to even budge
So the Beeman had to give her quite a nudge
All this while I stood quietly reeling
At the extent of her palace in my ceiling
Fair means or foul I made my stand
You could say I finally showed my hand
Simply out, she had to go
Which is why I called in the Beeman Pro
He nodded once, he nodded twice
He killed a thousand bees with one device
Now my bathroom is as silent as the grave
A memorial to the all the bees I tried to save

It's a chick thing

“Please excuse me, ladies and gentlemen
A personal emergency has arisen
That requires my immediate attention
And as such a timeous conclusion of this session.”

It’s hard to keep a professional demeanour
When your underwear has committed a misdemeanour
To smile while a knife appears to be embedded in your flesh
Where your underwiring has escaped through the mesh
Of your expensive French made designer lingerie
Leaving your cleavage in lopsided disarray

Keeping with a smile firmly on one’s face
Begin desperately seeking any sort of place
That might sell a lady’s brassiere
From this day on I’ll keep one spare
In my car, my bag, my desk
To re-render my figure statuesque

It could have been worse I could surmise
My panty elastic could have expired
And I might have fallen to my knees
With the sudden intrusion of a chilly breeze
You see, instead of all this tiresome whining
It’s always best to find a silver lining

Happy New Year

It’s the New Year and I’ll back at my desk
Already thinking that I need another rest
I had two whole weeks in which to do nothing
I lasted three days before I had to do something
So I painted the kitchen, my hair and my nose
I put all my books in neat alphabetised rows
I filed all the paperwork from years gone by
I danced for hours under the summer night sky
I trailed around from store to store
And still the kids’ schools demanded more
Glitter and pens and forgotten school stuff
Until quite frankly I’d had enough
Now I sit here at my trusty keyboard
And although flooded with work am insufferably bored
I want to jump up and down on the trampoline
Spend hours watching old movies on the silver screen
Why is it that the time slips so easily past
I wish I could make the moments last and last

Bees

There was a buzzing near the rooftop
A sound that drew my eye
Up to where the window meets the wide blue open sky
Mi casa is su casa for a hive of honey bees
It would have been polite for them to ask please

I am a modern woman of independent means
I do not run away from trouble screaming screams
No, I closed the door upon my unwanted house pests
It was time to evict them, my ears deaf to their protests

Three small interested parties stood waiting patiently by
I told them clearly not to enter and never their mother to defy
I must not have said it loud enough for not 2 more seconds passed
Before small boy aged four opened that door pretty fast

I need not tell you what occurred
He cried out like a little bird
I laid the phone to Bee Removal 101
And called instead Bee Medical rescue 911

In some weird twisted work of fate
I have a family member who thinks bees are great
She said to me to smoke them out
That it would work without a doubt

So I fired up the Weber and lugged it up the stairs
I caught those busy little bees completely unawares
I thought that this was the opportune time
To fill in the absent husband of mine

“Good God!” he exclaimed as I explained the plan
“Please tell me you didn’t and called a bee man!”
“Well, actually. Honey,” I purred down the phone
“It’s currently in process and that’s what happens when you leave me alone.”

Despite his extremely negative prognosis
I did not burn the house down in my bee ridding process
It still smells of smoke, but the bees have moved on
And I basked in the thrill of a battle well won

Now a week down the line I not so sure
That a fire in the loo was a failsafe cure
The bees are moving back one by one
I think the next plan is to buy a big gun