High off of the ground I could see them
On the old oak tree trunk cavity
The wild honey bees they were buzzing
Absorbed in their honey making activity.
The nectar gathering bees they were busy
Making honey whilst the sun shone
They did not venture out in wet weather
They stayed in till the rain had gone.
Perhaps they were apiary escapees
Who swarmed off with a younger queen
I was a young lad of just seven
And they were the first wild bees I had ever seen.
Whilst the sun shone all through the Summer
From their hive they buzzed to and fro
Gathering nectar from the nearby gardens
Or the wildflowers by the old hedgerow.
From late Fall on they were not seen out
Honey bees do not live to be old
The worker bees do quickly die off
They do not survive in weather wet and cold.
It has been more than fifty years I remember
Since I first saw wild honey bees
Buzzing around their hive in the oak tree cavity
In the morning sunshine and breeze.