He let a pregnant pause hang in the air 
Then he picked the will, named the heir 
The lawyer was a shrewd man, fully bald 
As he read on, those bequeathed, bawled.

His dead cunning client sure knew better
Left nil to his son, the gambling bettor 
To his sly wife, he gave a wide berth 
His daughter too got zilch, the one by birth.

To his stepdaughter, he was somewhat fair 
He left her money, enough for bus fare 
To his loyal servants; he left his cash 
I’m sure you wonder about his gold cache?

Ah well! I thought you would already know 
But, I see you shake your head in a ‘NO’ 
The apiarist could not let it be 
He bequeathed his fortune to his prized Bee.
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