The Almond Butter Migration

There was once a country farm
on which there lived three hornets,
who made a decent living
by farming almond butter.

Of course they had some almonds
who lived in sheds painted green.
They were quite a bit like bees,
but nowhere near as chatty.

Then the almonds went mental.
They caught two of the hornets
and served them up for breakfast,
but the third hornet had gone.

They decided to migrate,
but were not sure where to go.
They all voted on it quick,
and took the butter with them.

So it was that all almonds,
small and large, shelled and unshelled,
left the farm in their hundreds
and headed west on their way.

They took turns with the butter,
being careful to hold it
and not spill every last jar.
Almonds can be quite static.

Not in this specific case
as they were well on the move
and getting lost in the woods.
The butter was still intact.

Then the third hornet arrived.
The almonds were petrified.
Fortunately, they were brave
and resolved to stand and fight.

They fired butter at it
but the hornet evaded.
It attacked left, right and left,
stinging and stabbing about.

Then the almonds had a plan.
They lured the hornet in
with a jar of their butter,
and hid away behind trees.

The hornet feasted aplenty.
By the time he saw the trap
he was well and truly stuck.
Even his wings were useless.

He became a prisoner
of the new almond butter,
and was still in the tall jar
when the almonds reached paradise.

The almonds made their new home
by a lake in the woods.
They made more butter than sense
and were never farmed again.

(I apologise in retrospect about how long this poem is. It seems there's a lot to be said about almond butter, but not necessarily all in one poem.)