BEE FEVER by FRED RAYFIELD

I must go up to the bees again
To the busy bees and the sky,
And all I ask is a cosy place
When the weather is warm and dry,
When a gentle breeze in the basswood trees
And the sweet nectar flowing
And a quiet hum as o’er the fields
The bees are homeward going.

I must go up to the bees again,
For the great extractor turning
Has a clear sound and a sweet sound
For which I am ever yearning,
And all I ask is a peaceful day
With eager buyers calling
And busy bees at work all day
Even when the dew is falling.

I must go up to the bees again,
To the calm of apiary life,
With its honey combs, and tins and jars,
And peace in a world of strife
And all I ask is a honey crop
Gathered from sweetest clover,
And a little savings bank account
When the honey season’s over.