When forceful gusts rush the foyer today,
Within the house, the breezes sway,
A hum emerges, a soft buzz begins,
At the threshold, a neighbor's fuss akin.
As the teenager steps towards the door ajar,
A very emptiness greets him near and far,
Within his gaze, a bee takes flight,
Its daring buzz fills the air like a powerful kite.
Through the kitchen, then aloft to other rooms,
Annoyance stirs the loft as it resumes its vroom,
With youthful impulse, a shoe takes flight,
To confirm the missed attempt in broad daylight.
The shoe, a loyal-hand-tool missile without a guide,
Tumbles forth as if in a tipsy diver's stride,
Loafer, thru the window's pane, into the pool's embrace,
A shattered glass reflects the end of the chase.
Then comes a crescendo of buzz, louder it grew,
A swarms of wings, into the house a daunting view,
Seeking a purpose, a meer transient quest,
Homing to their queen, a duty on her behest
Consequences operate the learning's door,
Yet trapped in actions the youth abhor,
Logic relinquished, minds entrapped,
In the available choices, logic’s tragic lapse.
Now, a call to Mother must be made,
For drama's high pitched symphony to cascade,
Wisdom and prudence, they'll surely discuss,
Those bees have claimed the house in a fuss.
A call to Mother indeed. Those bees are in trouble. 😅