A Bee his burnished carriage Drove boldly to a Rose Combinedly alighting-- Himself -- his carriage was -- The Rose received his visit With frank tranquillity Withholding not a crescent To his cupidity -- Their moment consummated Remained for him -- to flee -- Remained for her -- of rapture But the humility --Emily Dickinson Small and violent bee Your spring seeking Assaults with threatening sting -- Hands clever as bee feet Separate the petals of my white garment As, seeking my nectarous red bud to blow Full on its blue veined stem, Your little probing bee tongue Tickles, sucks and draws -- I, like a honeyed blossom Am drained of my sweet dew. How like the robber bee you are Possessed with throbbing rhythms Your persistent constant hum No blush can push away