Tim Law

Tim Law is an author of fantasy, horror, detective and general short story fiction as well as the occasional poem or two. He heralds from a little town in Southern Australia called Murray Bridge. A happily married father of three children (plus four cats and a rabbit), family is very important to him. Currently working at the Murray Bridge Library in the role of Library Manager he has dreamed since his early high school years of becoming a full-time author. Working for a library, surrounded by so many wonderful authors it is difficult not to be inspired to write. Tim finds inspiration from playing board games, family movie night, family time and the world around him. The greatest inspiration of all for him comes from asking the golden question “what if?”

The Greatest of Treasures

As I was sailing across the seven seas
I stumbled upon a swarm of bees
I tracked them to their honey, sweet
Discovering that it was a special treat

Liquid gold upon some toast
It is the type of breakfast I love the most
A true treasure that I had been searching for
I begged the bees to give me more

Alas they buzzed to me, they were all out
Such news caused me to scream and shout
Such hullabaloo did cause distress
Across my deck was made a mess

The bees did buzz an apology
And they did promise to give to me
A life’s supply of what they make
I trusted bees more than I would a snake

I followed as they flew ahead
I paddled when the wind was dead
I followed them both day and night
And when we arrived I got a fright

What awaited me at my journey’s end
Was something far less than a friend
A thousand wasps with stingers aimed
Tricked by bees, our friendship maimed

All trust I had in bees, destroyed
My faith in prssssss had been toyed
But then I laughed as I saw had been done
The bees had filled their promise, and won

Honey for every day you live
Is little honey that bees must give
If your life is cut severely short
Such a clever contract would hold up in court

My piratical days were dwindling fast
I drew my cutlass and fought to the last
But wasps may sting when bees may not
They can sting, and sting, and sting a lot

I fell to the deck and pleaded they stop
I tried to hide beneath the mop
The bees did buzz for leniency
But those wasps could sense a victory

The bullies with wings would not give in
To give no quarter could be classed a sin
But such rules do not apply to all
That day the big were defeated by the small

So please do heed my rhyming warning
From the dusk until the begins of morning
Trust not those buzzing in the hive
If you wish to remain alive

For bees can be quick tricky
Like honey, their words are sweet, but sticky
My trust in them led to my doom
A desire for honey has become my tomb

So now I bid you all farewell
Please do not upon my sorrow dwell
And if life offers you choice most
May I suggest jam for your toast

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