Humourous Poems


My Hidden Voice

An Epitaph For Mr. Bee

So here now lies our Mr. Bee,
While making honey in a tree,
He tried to harvest Maple sap,
But it was sticky and a trap.

So he was caught inside this goo,
His life was over, that he knew,
Before he died, he made a burp,
It tasted just like maple syrup.

by David Ronald Bruce Pekrul

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To obtain permission to use this poem in a publication, please contact David Pekrul

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