Another Print Shop Verse

A bee flew in a print shop
And thought he'd found a place
Where he could 'lite and take a bite
As would befit his race.
He landed on a printer's head
And with contented smile,
Began to drill with whetted bill
In his best insect style.
He pondered not the absence
Of black or golden lock
For one should know where naught will grow
There must be solid rock.
His father once had told him,
When he was nearly grown,
"You'll find the meat will be more sweet
The closer to the bone."
His stinger soon began to glow
A bright and cheery red.
He learned to rue the day he flew
Onto a printer's head,
...BR
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Made me smile. How about a doing one about a stockbroker's head? *s.t.*