Honeybee

In the blush of dawn, where petals gleam,
A honeybee dances, lost in a dream.
Among cherry blossoms, soft pink and bright,
They hum a sweet tune, a melody of light.

With wings a-flutter and heart full of cheer,
They flit from bloom to bloom, year after year.
Gathering nectar, their work is precise,
Each droplet a treasure; each blossom, a slice.

Yet whispers of toil fill the gentle breeze,
For the forest is vast, it calls with ease.
The sun climbs higher, the day stretches long,
But the rhythm of nature plays on, ever strong.

A petal may fall, and the blossoms may fade,
Yet their tiny legs carry the weight of their trade.
For work is a dance, a cycle, a bind,
In the heart of the forest, sweetness entwined.

With pollen-caked legs and a spirit so bold,
The honeybee weaves through the stories untold.
Their labor lingers, though the sunlight may wane,
In the echo of blossoms, their essence remains.

Though the day's work is never quite done,
With each fleeting blossom, new journeys begun.
So they dance through petals, hearts filled with glee,
For in every sweet moment, they're truly set free.