Buzzing around in occupied land

a kettle of maple syrup boiled

a nemesis guarding the prize

on this foreign soil

Rumor has it that

this is the land of the free

milk and honey flow

perfect home for a bee

A hive joke

this jaunt is for naught

a devil rules this land

deadly if caught

Moving closer to the kettle

a robed woman sits

sipping on tea

telling me to git

Not deterred

going in for the kill

like a medieval knight

having great skill

The woman prepared

to give me a swat

my stinger prepared

to show her what not

We both missed

returning to our corners

time for another round

as the aroma of syrup grew warmer

In round two

fire escaped its confines

sending the syrup in the air

and burning in the pines

We both fled

injured and in pain

the pines burned

till there was only ashes and rain

The land of milk and honey

now a legend in the wind

eras pass

but we shall meet again