The Lily

How art thou, thou busy little bee?

I found the rose but my eyes see grey
it showed it's thorns to me
i smelt but what i knew
turned out to be a mockery

I flew around, wishing to fill
my nose, my stomach with the sweet
sweet nectar that was promised me
but alas was my nose blocked and i had not
the perfect rose to meet.

Yet as I asked of the Creator's plan
to make the bees thus attracted to the flowers
that show them disdain even to mock
at the strange beauty that love had made

He answered look to the lilies
look how they do not spin
yet finely created they are as you
just that you do not realise it.

Perhaps you miss the point
and long for something which is not meant
to be yours

Perhaps little bee, you are meant to be
a messenger, to show others the way
by which they must tread to find
the field full of lilies.

This is my bad attempt at poetry... I like it's meaning though.