They More Royal than Her Majesty

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

The orange grove is far from shrouded with

The fragrance of the orange blooms. They

Are wrapped in rhapsody of bees.  The myth

Is nectar, then of honey.  Workers pray

For something sweeter than the smell of myrrh

And frankincense.  They think about their queen

Who never tastes their sips. Their true love, her,

They ply with royal jelly in their keen

Desire.  The fragrance that the grove requires

Is love’s devotion.  That perfume the young

Bees give.  They feed her in winged buzzing choirs

All flying in with blossom tastes on tongue.

  Because of constant love she lives for years,

    Outlives them all, outlives their tiny spheres.