The Queen of Mead


Here are the opening stanzas of the sequel to Lizzy the Leatherback. It’s one of three books I’m working on.

The Queen of Mead

Among the insect royalty
     there lives a queen named Quillabee.
Her hive does something strange indeed;
     they turn their honey into mead.

I doubt you’ve ever tried the stuff;
     you’re probably not old enough.
So you’ll just have to take my word
     that QB’s mead is very good.

This honey-wine is made from scratch;
     aged to perfection by the batch.
The ancient family recipe
     includes a lot of spit from bees.

It’s not that gross, don’t barf or ralph;
     you swallow lots of spit yourself.
About three gallons worth a day
     but called “saliva” it’s okay.

Black Forest is the hive’s locale,
     but which Black Forest I won’t tell.
I’m sworn to secrecy—here’s why;
     they don’t want tourists coming by.

They serve a famous clientele
     that most of you would know quite well,
of nursery rhyme celebrities
     who closely guard their privacy.

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