by Phil Pollack
I think that I shall never z
An object lovely as a Bee.
A Bee whose flight path soars on high
Against the springtime’s sunlit sky.
A Bee that finds its target true,
And scores another birdie too.
A Bee that may in summer teach
The joy of playing at the beach.
How many games we play with Bee?
We are the Frisbee Family.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only Fred did make the Bee.
Credit to “Phrzby” Phil Pollack, who wrote this poem in 2010, after the passing of Fred “Walter” Morrison, and inspired by the poem “Trees” by Joyce Kilmer.