Context — Scrumptious honey hunger.
For gasps of air, young Stella burst toward sky,
the water flung around as cough and wheeze
erupted, as her lungs had been denied
the air patrolled by hordes of angry bees.
The blue above seemed heaven-sent, the bugs
had all but gone, which clarified the view.
The predators had acted as the thugs
that Stella sought to bid the bees adieu.
Emerging from the stale lake, she stood
adrip and shivering in zephyr blown
between mahogany and other wood,
the name for which she thought she once had known.
Despite the cold that flicked her in the wind,
with honey soon, she felt no trace chagrined.