O Bee!
While I believed you gathering in the sun
Nectar so busily,
What have you done?
My violet,
More white than well-bleached linen, you have kissed:
Her white she must forget
In amethyst.
See, see,
How you have meddled with the snowy clover,
Making her ivory
Blush like a lover!
My primroses,
That gave a greenish, pale moonshine,
O mischief-making bees!
Are red as wine.
(Mary Webb)
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Based on Topics: Love Poems, Wine PoemsBased on Keywords: mischief-making, meddled