Hope

Somewhere, in a castle old,
In a wood, deep and dark,
By a gurgling stream and
a crackling crone,
In a creaking oak as old as time itself,
Lies a glowing bee.

In a creepy, contorted tree,
By a hysterical brook and a
Screeching spinster,
In a wood that howls by night,
In a castle old and crumbly -  

the bee is hope,
And if we can find it in a
Tree, castle, brook or crone,
We can find it anywhere.
Anywhere at all.