bee kind
—
“for this,
let gardens grow, where beelines end,
sighing in roses, saffron blooms, buddleia;
where bees pray on their knees, sing, praise
in pear trees, plum trees; bees
are the batteries of orchards, gardens, guard them.”
―
yes it was yesterday, i think they may have over-celebrated and lost count.
the fairy dance
the soft stars are shining,
the moon is alight;
the folk of the forest
are dancing tonight:
o swift and gay
is the song that they sing:
they float and sway
as they dance in a ring.
o seek not to find them,
the wee folk so fair;
they’re shy as the swallow
and swift as the air:
if you come, they are gone
like a snowflake in may:
like a breath, like a sigh,
they vanish away.
-katherine davis (1892-1980)
—
image source: peter gray’s vintage art and postcards