Ruminations

A bee on daily duty round was milking clover’s healthy growth in nearby, grassy hunting ground: a grazing heifer swallowed both! The bee was mad; what right had she to interfere with honest toil? He’d make this ox pay painful fee, mark her mistake with sting’s sharp foil. Yet, it was dark and warm inside and he had laboured hard and long, a gentle rocking soothed his pride and Somnos called, was that so wrong? He snuggled closer to the flower and mumbled through a stifled yawn, ‘revenge can wait for half an hour’; but when he woke the cow had gone.