Queen Bee

By Camille McCawley

Activity swarms South Wigston
busy workers flit the warehouse
packing food for grateful hands.

Queen Bee greets visitors 
with an infectious smile 
banishing all their struggles.

She pries out insecurities 
starting in the kitchen
by pouring a cup of tea,
talking with a soft hum.
Before you know it, you're laughing.
She jokes about the next diet she's trying
while offering you handfuls of chips
with bright eyes widened.

When she sees you relaxed
Bee goes back to her desk 
picks up the phone
for the next food request.
Her job is more than taking orders
it is giving hardship advice to crying companions,
being honest when there isn’t enough food,
admitting when a delivery has gone wrong.

As if sitting upon a throne
every order is a special service
doing her best to scavenge the crumbs.
She shouts orders down the stairs
owning the land.
The team are never too afraid 
to tell the Queen when the crown
has gone to her head. 
She responds with a smile 
no-one can begrudge.

She puts off going for as long as possible.
The ambulance arrives
forcing her through doors
with laptop in hand.

Despite instructions to rest
she sends flowers for her colleague 
mourning a family loss.
She checks emails until IT blocks them.
Queen Bee cannot settle
knowing there is food in the warehouse
and friends so desperate. 

She was always so determined
we never thought for a second
the phone would ring unanswered.

Now the team needs to learn
how to organise
having lost our Queen,
the sister we will never forget. 

In memory of Billie-Jo Elms who passed away from coronavirus on 11th March 2021, having fought against food poverty until the end.

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Written Word ‘Hand’ poems