In fields where wildflowers bloom bright,
The bees dance in the morning light,
With golden wings, they softly hum,
A melody that nature strums.
They gather nectar, pure and sweet,
From blossoms where the sun and shadows meet,
Tireless workers in endless flight,
Weaving dreams from day to night.
Through meadows green and skies so blue,
They whisper secrets the flowers knew,
Pollinating life, they roam free,
A testament to harmony.
Oh, gentle bees, your journey grand,
Across the breadth of this fair land,
In every buzz, a story told,
Of natureâs treasures, rich and bold.