A Redwall Poem
Oh a beetle maid sat in a glade,
an’ she lamented sadly,
‘mah love’s gone off tae fight the bees,
ahem feared that he’ll fare badly.
Those bumbly bees are fierce wee things,
wi’ stripey shirts an’ wee small wings.
Their bottoms carry nasty stings,
they’re feisty aye an’ buzzy!
Och mae Berty Beetle looked so stern.
He didnae think twas funny,
when ah’ said that ah’d no’ kiss him,
til he brought me some honey.
He took his club from off the shelf,
an’ said tae me so gravely,
ah’ll fetch ye honey back the noo’,
an’ he marched off right bravely.
Twas some lang time ere’ he returned,
mah poor love injured sorely.
Ah spread him wi’ some liniment,
an listened to his story.
Alas, poor me tae love a fool.
Did naebeast tell this fellow,
those bees that don’t wear fuzzy shirts,
are wasps striped black an’ yellow?
Wi’ a hey an’ a hoe an’ a lacky doodle dan
midst all this shameful fuss.
‘Tis not just birds who live in trees,
an’ not just bees that buzz!
~Rackety Tam
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