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