The Queen Bee, her Supreme Majesty woke up in the bright March sunlight.
Yawning, she stretched out her wings and gave them a flutter. All was in good order. In the field nearby she saw the March Hares boxing. Sergeant Sally was getting the better of Corporal Jack quite easily.
“Well,” she buzzed, “I suppose one must find one’s new home and commence building a palace.”
She found the perfect spot, high up in an oak tree. A hole that was cavernous inside, the perfect location for her regal place of abode, with a glorious view of the nearby nature.
By April, work was in progress in sculpting the grand new home for the Queen. She had already had a number of builder Bees on site.
“Excuse me ma’am,” asked one; “where would you like the royal hot-tub placed?”
“Don’t bother me with trivia, use one’s head!” she replied haughtily whilst inspecting the handiwork of the Bees.
“I say, you there.” She said, pointing at a Bee placing a chandelier. “Do be careful; that chandelier goes back centuries!”
The palace was coming together nicely; a very smartly dressed Fox was nosing nearby, but they were well out of his way.
Alphonse the Honest, Amiable Bull was chewing contentedly in the May sunshine below the tree. The Queen Bee was sat in her new throne room, it still smelt of fresh paint but it was suitably regal. Wearing a gold trimmed gown she held court:
“You there, I say!” Her voice could be barely heard over the droning noise of the Bees gossiping while they worked diligently.
“Did you see the match? What a scandal!”
“That skirt Trisha was wearing made her thighs look huge!”
The Queen Bee sighed; she was famished and helped herself to a dollop of lovely jelly.
Spring – Summer – Autumn – Winter
The Angry Farmer 