In the hush of morning light, they stir,
Tiny guardians of the floral sea,
Their wings a blur, a gentle whir,
In the garden’s heart, wild and free.

Jewels of the air, they dart and glide,
Through sunlit paths they weave and spin,
A dance of color in the azure tide,
Their fleeting grace, a wondrous sin.

With every sip of nectar sweet,
They whisper secrets to the blooms,
In their presence, time feels fleet,
As if the world sheds its glooms.

Ephemeral elegance, they teach us well,
To cherish moments, swift and bright,
In the quiet where their stories dwell,
In the gentle hum of their flight.