The Bee, the Fly and the Moth

The Bee, the Fly and the Moth

The bee wore boots and a pilot’s hat,

He fancied himself a diplomat,

Buzzed in a bar all full of cheer,

Then slipped and landed in someone’s beer.

The fly rolled up with a toothpick cane,

Said, Oi, your wings are clogged with rain,

Did a jig, spun round a cup,

Did a burp and drank it up.

In flapped the moth in a velvet coat,

Looking like he had missed the boat,

Eyes too wide all full of gloom,

He whispered, Help, I have eaten a broom.

The bee climbed out and struck a pose,

Said, Gentlebugs, I am one of those,

Refined, well read, a classy gent,

Face painted on a jar of honey.

The fly just laughed till he lost his grip,

Slipped on a crumb from a Frenchie chip,

The moth now halfway sane again,

Tried to romance a ceiling fan.

They held a vote and declared it clear,

The winner of the day was root beer,

They danced, they sang, they broke a shelf,

Blamed it all on someone else.