The Dance of the Bee and the Flower.

The Dance of the Bee and the Flower

In a meadow bathed in morning light,

Where dew-kissed petals gleam,

A flower woke with colours bright,

Emerging from a dream.

Its fragrance drifted on the breeze,

A call to those who roam,

Inviting all the gentle bees,

To find a home in it.

A bee, with wings of golden hue,

Heard the flower's soft plea,

It flew through skies of endless blue,

To dance in harmony.

With grace, the bee began its waltz,

Around the waiting bloom,

Its touch, a lover’s sweet impulse,

That banished all the gloom.

The flower swayed, its petals wide,

To welcome its small guest,

It knew within the bee’s soft glide,

Its heart would find its rest.

In every brush of tender wing,

The flower felt its worth,

The bee, in turn, began to sing,

Of love and life’s rebirth.

For in this dance, a bond was made,

A cycle pure and true,

The bee would gather what it craved,

And share what it once knew.

The flower gave its golden gift,

The pollen, sweet and fine,

The bee, with careful hands, would lift,

This treasure is so divine.

Together they, in nature's rhyme,

Played out their ancient tune,

The bee and flower, bound by time,

Beneath the sun and moon.

And as the day turned into night,

Their dance came to an end,

But in their hearts, the love was bright,

A bond no time could rend.

For every dawn, the bee returned,

And every flower knew,

That in this dance, where love is earned,

The old becomes the new.