I don't despise the dragon flies that zip around my hand,
for berries I peruse, both currant and goose.
Could I make jam that's grand?
A little fellow of black and yellow is quite another thing;
I hurry faster to pick the aster.
because I fear the sting.
I admire things like butterfly wings; their gracefulness I tout,
Among bright cherries, rich blackberries,
but a hornet freaks me out
©07/25/2012 Carol Morfitt Welch