In gardens where the flowers bloom bright,
The bees hum softly, a gentle, golden light.
Their wings a whisper, in the morning’s glow,
Crafting honey, where sweet rivers flow.

From blossom to blossom, they tirelessly roam,
Building a hive, their sacred home.
Each bee a note in nature’s song,
Together they work, where they belong.

The sun rises high, casting shadows long,
Yet bees continue their work, steadfast and strong.
Through fields of clover, and wildflower seas,
They gather nectar, with grace and ease.

As dusk descends and the day grows old,
The bees return, their stories told.
A symphony of life, in each tiny flight,
The bees remind us of nature’s pure delight.