His Feet Are Shod With Gauze

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His Feet are shod with Gauze—
His Helmet, is of Gold,
His Breast, a Single Onyx
With Chrysophrase, inlaid.

His Labor is a Chant—
His Idleness—a Tune—
Oh, for a Bee's experience
Of Clovers, and of Noon!

by Emily Dickinson

Comments (1)

..........oh wonderful poem...wasn't expecting the ending.. .the beekeeper is truly wonderful....love this ★