One of my most treasured possessions is a copy of Maeterlink’s The Life of the Bee, originally belonging to Leonard Seder and gifted to me by Dick in 1992. Folded into the title page, is a poem, written by Dick...
~
to Bee..
Behold the humble Bumble Bee
who hymns the whole day through
and hums about his business
and harms not me or you;
smart money says
this bee can’t fly
(smart money knows
the what and why
of every thing
that cash can buy)
smart money says
this bee must die –
and yet good-humored hymenopt
goes hopefully in flight aloft
collecting honey for the hive
that old may live and young may thrive,
this rumbling tumbling Bumble Bee
that bothers none – a Bee for me
or not to Bee…
Beware the warlike Yellow Jacket
carries poison in her packet
sends her arrows everywhere
she gets a chance her rear to bare;
she’ll stick her stinger in your ear
or simply stab the nearby air;
she spends all day assaulting strangers –
campers, hikers, bikers, rangers
uninvited takes her place
beneath your seat or on your face,
aggressively she seeks your sandwich
drinks your soda, eats your pie;
only winter dulls her frantics
underneath the frozen sky;
I think you’d rather have your picnic
when the weather’s warm and mild
unencumbered by this child of nature
bellicose, beespoiled, beeguiled.
~
Imagine finding a rhyme for sandwich!
That is how I remember Dick, ready for a pun, enamored of the world around him.
Vale Dick.
