Bees
A giant sees me on my flower. I am retrieving honey for my hive. I collect pollen, and when I find a patch of roses, I know Garnet, my best friend from birth, will be impressed.
“Hello, Queen Buttercup! How are you feeling today?” I ask when I come back from gathering pollen.
“I’m doing just fine, thank you, dear. I’ve already laid 1,237 eggs today, so I have 763 left to go!”
“That’s great to know. I hope that you will live a long and happy life!” I respond. I bow before her and bid her goodbye. She waves a leg at me and lays a few more eggs.
“Long live Queen Buttercup!” I chant.
“And long live her hive!” the hive replies.
In the hive I do a dance to show where the flowers are. I feel like a dancer as I make a snake-like pattern called the waggle dance to show that the flowers are across the river near our hive. I round up a few bees to come with me and we set off across the stream and straight into a patch of beautiful flowers.
“Great job on finding these flowers! Surprised you didn’t rest near another bear again,” says Garnet, joking around as usual.
“Hey! It wasn’t my fault there was a bear right where I saw the prettiest tiger lily! Besides, it didn’t follow me back to the hive like you,” I shoot back.
“Well, it was only a little cub so that didn’t matter. It went away anyways.”
“Still, it could have easily broke open the hive, then we would have stung it, then it would have cried out, attracted the mother, and gotten very, very mad with us. Then we would have to rebuild the hive-”
“Alright, alright, I got it! Let’s get some pollen now,” said a defeated Garnet. We come back to the hive with our legs full of pollen and our bodies covered in it.
After a few months it is Winter time. We are especially important near winter when flowers are dying and there are fewer flowers in the area. We are also very protective of our queen and form a huddle around her and shiver our wings to keep her warm.
But as Spring time comes… Daisies, marigolds, roses, and more! All just fine and all in store! As I get some pollen, I try to tell the giant what I am doing and buzz over to his ear, which looks like the mouth of one of our greatest enemies, the frog.
“Good day, sir, is it not? I was just collecting some honey for my hive, so please, don’t “bee” bothered by me!”
“Ahhh! Bee! Shoo! Evil Insect!”
“HOW DARE YOU CALL ME AN EVIL INSECT! I am respected for my duties to the queen. Not just sitting around all day eating food outside! I am not a fly, for honey’s sake!”
I fly off, muttering to myself about giants when I spot a giant smaller than usual, so I try and talk some sense into it.
“Hello there, young fellow! Would you like to know about us fabulous bees?” I ask.
At first its face was blank, but then it whined and screamed a little, which made me jump and fly upwards. The miniature giant runs over to the average sized giant and the giant pulls a flat looking thing with a stick attached to and swatted at me.
I fly away to the hive, rolling my five eyes and tell my exciting adventure to my friends. And this is how a bee lives an averagely normal life, which is only forty days, but still.
Bio Poem
Saundra
Creative, curious, strange, shy
Sister of Mikaela and Gregory, who has blue eyes.
Lover of Minecraft, fishing, and books
Can often be found in her small nooks.
Is happy when at amusement parks,
Scared when it is frighteningly dark.
Who feels sad when hurt,
And sometimes feels like dry dirt.
Can give people happiness and fright,
Almost always in the darkness of the night.
Who can make her friends laugh,
But is serious when doing math.
Who fears stone weeping angels, giant spiders and FNAF 4.
Which could make her sometimes at night close her door.
Wants to see Japan, Iceland, and the Bahamas.
And sometimes dreams of them in her pajamas.
Who lives at 420 Cadberry Court in a big house in Upper Saint Clair.
And has never ever seen a wild bear.
Munsick
Clock
Never ending, always beginning.
Always showing time but never needing any.
Counting hours, minutes, and seconds and not caring at all.
Lifeless, yet useful,
Smart, but not beautiful,
Clock.
Seven continents, each with their own time.
Always ticking, always helpful,
Needs assembly, needs repair eventually,
Clock on the wall.
Mt. Lebanon Young Writers 2016 