Bedtime Kids Fiction

Blossom the Bee

The hive was a-buzz with honey bees galore.

There was lots of honey, but they could always use more.

Assignments were made, by the Boss, Mr. Big

To assure that each worker was aware of her gig.

“Look here, Beatrice, Bianca and Bo

 You’re getting your new assignments, you know?

And you, Bella, Brooklyn, Betty and Blake

You’ll be promoted if you make no mistakes 

‘At tending to the larvae, our babies, our brood.

Clean them and love them and bring them their food.

Teach them to exercise their wings and their legs

So they can soon help you prepare for more eggs.

‘Now, Beverly, Bailey, Bristol and Briars,

An important task that our abode requires

Is that of Undertaker, it’s not that much fun,

But it keeps the hive clean, and it must be done.

‘I also need Architects, Bexley and Billie,

And believe me, this job is not for the silly.

You will make the wax, to build the comb,

Repairing the cracks and flaws in our home.

“And on to you Braelyn, Briana and Birdie

To keep our dear home from getting all dirty,

We need you to clean, organize and make honey,

This is, shall I say, how we earn our money.

“Oh special are you, Bridget and Blair,

For the next is a job for those the most fair

The Queen’s Attendants you shall be

To groom her and feed her, and do what she needs.

“The new Guards of our hive will be Brenda and Brooke.

They’re responsible for keeping safe every nook

From bumblebees, wasps and other strangers

I cannot begin to list all the dangers!”

Mr. Big took a drink, and paused for a while,

And then he continued with a big bright smile,

“My dear little Blossom–let’s give her a hand

Today you go off to forage the land!

For the pollen, the nectar, our hive’s bread and butter.”

And the bees all clapped, but not a word did Blossom utter.

Instead of feeling proud, she began to cry.

She didn’t want to be a Forager; she was afraid to fly. 

“Mr. B.,” she cried, “I’m content to nurse the smalls

Or to attend to the Queen whenever she calls,

I have no ambition to gather the pollen

I’ll stay back at the hive, and unload what they haul in.”

Said Mr. Big, “To forage is the ultimate job for a bee.

Get ready to go, now you listen to me!”

“But please,” replied Blossom, “I don’t want to fly.

I’ll stay here and clean. Even guarding, I’ll try.”

Mr. Big, unamused, said “But Blossom, why?”

To which Blossom replied, “I am afraid to fly.

I once saw a bird, a baby, a jay.

She stepped out of her nest on a bright sunny day.

“And she leapt from the branch as she unfolded her wings

She flapped and she flapped, but of all things

A gust of wind came and it pushed her down.

Her wing was broken when she hit the ground.

“It was terrible, awful, unfortunate, bad

The fate of that little bird made me so sad

That I decided that day that I’ll stay in the hive

It would be fun to forage, but I want to stay alive.”

And Mr. Big, wise old drone that he was

Said “Blossom you must fly! You must, because–

You’re of the right age now, your stinger is stout

You’ve been of use in the hive, but it’s time you get out

“And take off and hover and flutter and soar!

You’re strong and you’re able, now it’s time to do more.”

Poor Blossom sighed and brushed away a tear

Foraging would be fun if it weren’t for this fear.

Then she looked to the landing board where the Foragers lit

To unload their collections, and she envied a bit

Those Forager sisters with their marvelous wings

Who searched for nectar and pollen, and brought home these things.

“I can do it!” she exclaimed, “I can do it, they’ll see,

I may be afraid, but I’m also a bee!

And I was meant to buzz meadows and drink nectar from flowers

I was meant to bring pollen, and keep flying for hours.”

So up she climbed to the top of the hive

And she spun around with a buck and a jive.

She backed up on the deck, just as far as she could.

With a deep breath she whispered, “This is gonna be good.”

Her six little legs kicked into motion.

You would think she could fly across the ocean

When she took a big jump and her wings opened out

All of Blossom’s pals began to shout,

“Go little Blossom! Fly to the fields!

See what treasures the meadow yields!”

And Blossom, showing off for her friends,

Did not pay attention to the gusty winds

That showed up suddenly and from the South,

Blossom closed her eyes and opened her mouth.

She felt herself plummeting toward the earth

And it started to rain, to make matters worse.

“Look out, Blossom!” called Mr. B.,

And she opened her eyes, and what did she see?

A big yellow daffodil. Alone it was standing,

And Blossom aimed for it and made a bumpy landing.

She crawled inside of the bright, sunny bloom.

It sheltered her from raindrops like a safe little room.

It smelled so delicious, Blossom couldn’t help but test

The juice from the stigma, while she took her rest.

She smiled and giggled with such glee.

It tasted like Heaven, so fresh and so sweet.

She drank and she drank, ‘til there was no more

And her legs were so full, they felt kind of sore.

“I must get it home,” she declared with great grit.

“It won’t be easy, but I must do it!”

So again she flapped and fluttered with all of her might

And before she knew it, she was a-light.

But back down she went, and she took a little repose

Then she stood up on the tips of her toes

And her tiny little wings pulled her along

And again she rested, and sang a little song.

“I know I can do it, if I just take it slow,

I’ll fly ‘til I’m tired, and back down I’ll go.

I will get there if I just stay on track.

I may not be speedy, but I will make it back.”

Finally, crawling up to the landing board from the ground

She was tired and wet, but when she looked around

All of her bee friends were lined up here

When they saw her face, they began to cheer,

“Way to go, Blossom! You did it! You flew!”

And feeling great pride, Blossom just knew

That she’d conquered the fear that was bringing her down

And right now, she was the happiest insect in town.

So proudly she presented the nectar she’d gathered.

The struggle of the journey no longer mattered.

She declared, “Foraging is my destiny!”

Because, she was, after all, a bee.

March 04, 2022 16:09

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Teresa Mc Coy
00:38 Mar 13, 2022

As a retired teacher of elementary aged children, my mind was spinning with ways this poem could be used in a classroom. For example, in a lesson about honey bees or as an example Of poetry writing. The various jobs of the bees in a hive are factual, I loved the rhyming, cadence, and alliteration - it was just plain FUN! Children will love this! Can’t wait to see more from this writer.


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Auden Knapp
04:29 Mar 10, 2022

This is so good! I absolutely LOVE rhyming stories.


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