Bartholomew and the Golden Cup

Bartholomew is a Bee, who is famous in the hive.

The Queens nephew is blessed and lucky to be alive.

For his adventurous spirit on the Honey-Run had put him at some harm.

The Hive hums with his story, singing he must have a

lucky charm.

For in the second week of Spring under blue skies and bright sun

It was the Queens command the bees gather honey and have a little fun

The buds had burst open with colour, flowers all bobbing heads

The garden a wild canvas of greens, blues, yellows and

bright reds.

Amongst the bees on the first Honey-Run of the year the Queens nephew flew

Out he went with his big sister, the experience all fresh and new.

Bartholomew had never before left the hive, he was excited at what he might learn

A grand tour of the garden he followed his sister on each and every turn

Keen to please Bartholomew buzzed with questions he eagerly wished to ask

Yet his sister kept his attention on the Honey-Run, for that was their main task

From flower to flower they flew, collecting nectar as they went

Bartholomew was hypnotised by the sweet nectar and its heavenly scent

“Oh Sister, Dear Sister,” Bartholomew cried,

“This work is not work at all.”

“It is a joy to be on the Honey-Run. I cannot wait for tomorrows call.”

Then suddenly he landed for he saw something wonderful in the garden, on the other side.

A golden flower beckoned in the breeze so Bartholomew asked, “Sister, will you be my guide?”

“Oh, Brother dear,” she did reply, “You really must not go near.”

“The Golden Cup is beautiful but not for us to harvest. Please tell me that you hear…”

Bartholomew heard the warning that his sister gave

Yet in his heart he was already set upon the Golden Cup, its nectar he did crave.

Bartholomew woke the following morning excited for the day ahead

His sister took him out as intended, but Bartholomew had other plans instead.

He flew faster than his sister could, dipped and dived, leaving her far behind

Determined he was to taste the nectar from the Cup and that wondrous flower find.

A shortcut over the grassy lawn he took; a very risky thing to do,

He should have kept into the flower borders for he was almost swatted by a shoe!

A child in the garden played whose mother worried about a bees’ sting

So, from her foot she took her shoe and at Bartholomew she did it fling.

A nimble chap, he dodged the shoe but did stumble in mid flight

He fell upon the blades of grass giving poor Miss Ladybird such a fright.

“I’m sorry that I scared you,” apologised Bartholomew. “I’m trying to get to the Golden Flower.”

“Go carefully then,” Ladybird warned. “Beware of the Wasp nearby, who is so meanspirited and sour.”

With thanks for the warning Bartholomew flew on more cautiously,

And true enough at the Golden Flower there was The Wasp who mocked him remorselessly.

“Oh, little Bee so far from home with your annoying feeble whine

Get away from this Golden Cup, for its sweet nectar is all mine!”

“My dear friend”, Bartholomew said, “the bounty of the garden is for everyone to share,”

Bravely Bartholomew did respond, “How about a small challenge if you dare?”

Wasp thought carefully about his reply, seeing an opportunity to keep Bartholomew from the prize,

“Complete the challenge to my rules and I will grant you free access to the cups, according to their size”

Bartholomew agreed to his terms, blind to the Wasps wily ways.

“Collect some nectar for me to try from three cups of my choosing, before the fading of this suns rays,

And I will surrender the treasures of this Golden Flower for all your hive to enjoy.”

The Wasp smiled at young Bartholomew most sincerely, to keep him from guessing his own devious ploy.

“So where do I begin?” asked Bartholomew, eager to start on his first bloom.

“Why follow me, my little Bee,” said Wasp and together to Wasps choice they did zoom.

They set upon an older golden flower, “Within lies my favourite vintage nectar here.”

“Enter in to harvest its prize and I’ll await you. I’ll be very near.”

The bloom was a deep and roomy cup, whose petals and heady aroma drew Bartholomew in.

Buzzing with excitement he gathered up the nectar, upon his face a silly grin.

Happily he handed over the nectar to the Wasp who ate it up greedily.

“Where next?” Bartholomew enquired, keen to part company with the Wasp most speedily.

“A special Cup is your next task, now you have completed this the first”

And Wasp took him swiftly along the stem to a second flower, for now he had a thirst.

The nectar does some funny things to those who don’t take care!

Bartholomew had a dizzy head and Wasp was more determined than ever not to share.

The second flower was smaller than the last, the smell of nectar a little lighter and very sweet.

“In you pop my black and yellow nectar hunter, I’m waiting for my next treat”.

Wasp was greedy for another taste and Bartholomew to do his bidding for free.

He thought of young Bartholomew as a young, lonely and somewhat foolish Bee…

The second cup was snug and had so little room to move

But Bartholomew was determined to succeed, his devotion to his hive and Queen to prove.

He gathered up the precious nectar slowly, careful not a drop to lose.

Wasp, delighted, ate it all up as soon as he could and, feeling a wee bit woozy planned an afternoon of snooze…

Elsewhere in the garden Bartholomew’s sister searched for him both low and high,

She asked the birds and other bees, who all agreed to look too and yes, to find him they’d certainly try.

Long and hard she searched until she found the Ladybird sat at the bottom of a tree.

Ladybird pointed in the direction her brother went, so away she flew with her helpers to see what she would see.

“And so, onward to the third and last, my little Bumbly friend,” said Wasp as they rested upon the ground.

“For next is the final cup where the sweetest nectar yet is just waiting to be found.”

Bartholomew was quite tired but resolved his adventure

now to conclude

He thought the Wasp a greedy chap, really

truly mean and actually quite rude.

Wasp led the way, to the youngest brightest

flowers which bloomed at the very top.

The chosen Golden Cup had the sweetest smell,

and was surely the finest of the crop.

The last cup was the smallest, for Bartholomew it was

the tightest fit

He struggled hard to enter. He had to push and squeeze

in but knew he couldn’t quit.

“I’ll leave you to it,” bid the Wasp chuckling to

himself out loud.

“I’ll wait for you at the bottom so please don’t disappoint!

Such success will make your hive proud.”

Wasp believed his nectar treasure to be safe, that Bartholomew

would get forever stuck

The smallest Cup would just suck him in and the little bumblebee would run quickly out of luck.

Indeed, Bartholomew could not move, neither further in nor

back out.

Trapped by the wily Wasp, Bartholomew began to wriggle and loudly he did shout.

“Oh, Help. Help me please. The wicked Wasp has tricked me and now I am held fast!”

“I love my Hive, My Queen and Sister. Please don’t let my first Honey Run also be my last”

Across the garden his cries rang, heard by the birds who then began to sing.

Their song carried through flowerbeds and bushes and finally it did help bring.

Bartholomew’s sister and her helpers hurried to the Golden Cup, and there a Bees bare bottom is what they saw.

Bartholomew was so embarrassed by his plight he just could not take it any-more.

The Honey Run Bees assembled and together on Bartholomew’s legs they all began to tug.

For quite some time they pulled and pulled but the flower still held the Queens nephew in a very tight hug.

A caterpillar lingered near, took pity on their dilemma and offered a suggestion up.

“It may be easier to cut the petal to ease this fellows pain, so if you like I can eat this Golden Cup!”

With delight the Bees agreed and watched the caterpillar as she began to chew.

Slowly the petal released its grip until Bartholomew broke free, and with relief into the air he finally flew.

“Thank-you, thank-you, you beautiful creature. I pray that nature rewards you with the dawn of each new day.

As now I can share this the sweetest nectar with all, which is everything for which I’d begun to pray.

The Caterpillar and the Bees all began to celebrate as they were so overcome with joy and laughter.

Wasp disturbed from his nap looked on at the sweetest nectar which jealously he still craved after.

“We had a deal Bee. That Nectar is mine,” he cried out, “Just be honest with your Hive. Please don’t you lie..”

But suddenly wasps words fell silent as he was swallowed mid anger by a hungry Magpie!

“Enough of that nonsense,” the Magpie laughed loudly

and with glee,

“Nasty little creature was the Wasp and now the Garden

from his wily ways is free.”

“Today then you have collected us as friends,” buzzed the bees to the Magpie as they gathered all around

“You and the Caterpillar both, honorary members of our Hive our Queen will have you crowned.”

A feast at the Hive the Bees had when they all returned,

The Queen was both cross and happy with Bartholomew. She asked him what he had learned,

Bartholomew answered, “Not to trust in Strangers is what I should have understood.

That love and the safety of family are what really matters and all that is good.”

Bartholomew then is a Bee, who is famous within his hive.

The Queens nephew agrees he is blessed and, yes, lucky to be alive.

For his adventure with a wicked Wasp and the Golden Cup had put him at quite serious harm.

The hive hums still with his story, filled with thanks to a

Caterpillar, a Magpie, and some as yet undiscovered lucky charm.