Alex Arnot

The Beetle

The sweetest song comes when the stars abound

And the insects of the kingdom anticipate the sound.

A violinist beetle plays through the night

When his firefly cousins deliver their light.

 

He sits on a dew soaked stem alone,

Beneath the moonlight it becomes his throne.

He plays a tune that would make songbirds cry

And creates new life under the darkened sky.

 

His music bids the other beetles to sing along

And the moths and spiders work in sync with his song.

Upon his stem, his heart writes symphonies sublime,

Some dark as the sky above, others like the stars that shine.