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The Bee Box -- Lowell Parker

Guest poem sent in by Prateek Sharma
(Poem #1923) The Bee Box
 In this small box, my love,
 you'll not find a ring,
 but instead, a brave, little bee.
 He'll be dead by morn, having given his life
 defending his flowers against me.
 I felt his sting
 while picking the small, purple pansies
 growing wild along the roadside,
 in hopes of an afternoon bouquet for you.
 And I grieved the sting,
 more for him than me,
 knowing full well the price he paid
 for my small pain.
 And I allowed him his victory,
 leaving his flowers as a memory,
 and brought you instead
 this brave, little bee,
 who proves there is love
 even in the smallest
 of things.
-- Lowell Parker
Form vs Freedom of Expression has been an age old question for art creators
and critics. When I posed this question to our poetry teacher, she came up
with this poem. This poem does not score too well on the metre/rhyme front.
There are some grammatical errors and inconsistency in style as well.

Yet, the poem just soars. The imagery is transforming. It touches us on a
very human level. It says so much about love and courage. And about
sensitivity. How much can we learn from this world and its creatures!

Prateek

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