Once a keeper of buzz, known for his hives,
He rolled up a joint before stepping outside.
With a wink and a grin, he thought they could thrive,
His bees danced like fairies, on nectar they glide.
But the smoke in the air, oh, it added to strife,
As he stumbled on flowers, with pollen to hide.
In the morning so bright, with the sun in the sky,
He’d don his white suit, while his mind very hazed;
With each little bee that would flutter and fly,
He’d giggle and laugh, for the day was so dazed.
He mistook a fat bumblebee for a fly,
Cried, “Look at my pet! Isn’t he just amazed?”
On the hive he would lean, both heavy and slow,
Searching for honey, unaware of the sting;
As the bees buzzed around him, he felt the flow—
Were they dancing to music? Oh, what joy they bring!
A bee with a crown flew right into his brow,
And he swore it whispered, “That’s how to take wing!”
But the day wore on, and he started to fret,
The vapors and buzz had made him quite dense—
He reached for the honey, but got lost in a bet,
With the queen bee declaring he’d owe her immense.
“I’m meant to be royal!” said the king in regret,
As he stumbled and laughed at his lack of defense.
As dusk turned to night, with the hive all aglow,
He stumbled back home, still lost in the fog;
With his pockets of honey, and a head full of ‘whoa’,
He questioned his wisdom, then petted his dog.
“Whoa, dude, where’s bees?” said the pup, all aglow;
And the keeper just pondered, “Was I really a cog?”
So the lesson was learned, in a way quite sublime,
That a buzz from his bees should be one he could trust;
For high on the hive, he lost track of time,
And his thoughts flew like pollen—so light and robust.
With a smile and a sigh, in the warm summer clime,
He vowed to keep buzzing, but just not with the dust.
Hazy Humor is licensed under CC BY-SA 4.0
