Christopher Robin Hood wakes as the sun’s coming up, Pooh shuffles beside him, dreams sweet in his cup. They peer through the woodland where golden hives gleam, Watching bees chase the honey, chasing billionaire dreams. They whisper their secret: “Let’s share what is fair,” The forest is hungry; there’s sweetness to spare. Owl, with old wisdom, says, “Look at the size— Of those glimmering towers that block out the skies!” High above canopy, honey stacks rise, In vaults and in towers that baffle the eyes. Billionaire bees banking honey on high, While critters below only wonder and sigh. So Christopher gathers his curious crew: Pooh with his longing for something to chew, Rabbit with papers and schemes to arrange, Piglet with courage that’s scared of big change. Kanga brings kindness, with Roo on her lap, Tigger is bouncing, already making a map. Eeyore joins quietly, ears drooped with care, But even gloom’s lighter with friends who will share. They follow the bees as they buzz through the day, Over roots and through brambles, where shadows still play. “See how they circle, protecting their hoard— While most in the forest can’t fill one cupboard.” Owl does the numbers: “It’s growing so fast, A handful of hives hold the world in a glass. The richest ones gather drops others can’t see— It grows and it grows, but it’s hoarded, not free.” Kanga sees nests that are empty and bare, Roo asks, “Why don’t the bees ever share?” Rabbit draws charts, Eeyore mumbles his gloom, But Christopher knows there is light in the room: “What’s wealth if not shared? What’s honey, alone? The richest are lonely atop golden thrones.” So off goes the crew, inspired and bold, To free some of that honey, not bought and not sold. A caper unfolds—like a train in the night— They sneak through the hives, avoiding bee-sight. Tigger distracts with astonishing flair, While Piglet keeps lookout with wide-eyed care. They gather just enough, not a crumb more than fair, Leaving plenty behind so the bees are aware. Back through the woods, they hand honey to all— Field mice, old owls, the great and the small. Pooh carried a jar of honey to every neighbor in the hood, They fill up Eeyore’s cupboard, bring sweetness to friends, Show the forest it’s better when sharing never ends. Even the bees, once grumpy and cross, Discover that sharing brings gain, not just loss. At last, they all meet in the soft dusky light, “Here’s to kindness,” Chris toasts, “and to doing what’s right!” A picnic begins where the whole forest feasts, For real wealth, they know, is the joy that’s released. So remember this tale in the world that you see— When all the honey’s hoarded, what hope can there be? If Christopher and friends can dare to be kind, Perhaps we can share what’s been selfishly mined. For honey, like hope, multiplies when it’s spread— And happiness grows when every heart’s fed.

The Great Honey Heist