silly

Poem: Bees

- Emily Dickinson


Bees are Black, with Gilt Surcingles--
Buccaneers of Buzz.
Ride abroad in ostentation
And subsist on Fuzz.

Fuzz ordained--not Fuzz contindent--
Marrows of the Hill.
Jugs--a Universe's fracture
Could not jar or spill.
Indexing:

Posts from This Journal by “poetry” Tag

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  • Poem: If I should die

    - Emily Dickinson If I should die, And you should live, And time should gurgle on, And morn should beam, And noon should burn, As it has usual…

  • Poem: A Suit

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