Galvin the Bard, once again, was booked at an eclectic coffee shop.
These were decent side gigs to supplement his earnings at the Puking Peasant Inn.
At the shop were a group of older scientists, with tenure at university who were currently studying entomology, the study of insects.
The Bard was bored. Libraries, literacy, learning lessons and little legged lilies were not Galvin’s genre. The scholarly seventy somethings were discussing the hexagonal symmetry of honeycombs.
They droned on and on about pollination of sunflowers and strawberry fields forever it seemed.
It was almost show time.
Annoyed, and astonished at the averageness of his aggregate accomplices, John, Paul, Richard, and George, he sighed in aggravation and silently sobbed in contrite contrition.
He rehearsed the music with them and they played a somber song in sadness.
Come here bee.
When I find myself needing pollen, Blue mist spirea comes to me
Speaking to my senses come here bee
And in my hour of darkness the flower right in front of me
Speaking to my senses come here bee
Come here bee x4
Speaking to my senses come here bee
And when the honey less insects living in the world agree
There will be sweet nectar, let it bee
For though my hive is hexagonal, there is a chance that you will see
All of the sweet nectar, come here bee
Come here bee x4
Pollen speaking nonsense come here bee
Come here bee x4
All of the sweet nectar come here bee.
Come here bee x4
All of the sweet nectar come here bee.
And when this bush is all dried up there is still
A scent for my need
Pollen for tomorrow come here bee
I wake up to all the buzzing the queen gives a stiff kick to me
Get my fix of pollen, worker bee
Come here bee x4
Pollen speaking nonsense come here bee
Come here bee x4
All of the sweet nectar come here bee.
Come here bee x4
All of the sweet nectar come here bee.
The scientists were elated, elevated, emphasizing egalitarian equality abuzz with the bees.
Galvin begrudging, beheld John, Paul, Richard, and George. They weren’t too bad. Perhaps he would perform with them again.
(Author Note. If you would like the guitar or piano chords, they are available upon request.)
Author: Benjamin
Benjamin Thiel is a community leader, urban farmer, and author of The Ongoing Tale at Brothers Campfire. He might know a guy...
I cracked up when he said, “They droned on and on.” Now I will be humming, “Come here bee” all night long.
Beautiful 🌹
Thank you friend!
💐💐😊💓
Wonderful. The bard is an asset to Northwich. Brother should hold huge concerts. It can be a nice source of income. Maybe the income can be used for setting up watch towers and barracks. Soon Northwich shall be greater than the cities of La Longi.
Plausible. However the Bard lives in the city of La Longi where all the people with the money are!
Didn’t the bard live in Northwich and sing at the campfire where the heron tribe came to listen? I thought he only occasionally visited the puking inn.
He moved to La Longi where the money is. He likes to be around people. Lots of them.
That is sad. Maybe development of Northwich will bring him back. Have you considered mining for minerals? Also, the destroyed city if Norrhwich might have lots of buried gold, treasure and valuables. Of course, unless brother considers treasure hunting ethically wrong, or if there are stories about the treasure being cursed. I would also consider integration of the heron people into Northwich.
Those are all very great ideas, Ishaan!
The Bard, Beast, and Brother have wildly different goals and ambitions. The Brother for instance would jave been content keeping his father’s farm.
Well I think I am still at an early stage of the story. So don’t yet know much about them. But so far I felt that Brother seems quite ambitious in growing Northwich. I just reached the point where he was given the title of Thain and told to make his own banner and stuff. Of course, things will become clearer with time.
As for the mineral idea, https://brotherscampfire.com/a-heron-story/?preview=true&frame-nonce=ef80cd3f1e
Perfect 👏👏
Thank you!