Note: This poem is a parody (intending to be funny) from a poem in one of the Lord of the Rings books. i wrote this way back in 2003 as an assignment in English. The original of the poem can be found here

I sang of bees, of bees with honey, and they came so sweet and swell:
Of rain I sang, a rain there came and on the bees it fell.
Beyond the tree, beyond the whole, the honey in the tree,
And by the branches of the tree I saw a honeybee.
Beneath the top of that big tree in my head I thought,
In that tree beside the walls I’ll fill my honey pot.
There long the golden honey sat mellifluously along with ease,
While here below the treetops high I’m rained upon by leaves.
O poor me! The Winter come, the empty honey tree,
The bees are falling into death, the poor old honeybee.
O poor me! Too long I wait here upon this hither spot
And in the fading daylight have twined the golden honey pot.
But if of trees I now should sing, what tree would come to me,
What tree would fill me ever up with honey dear to me?