Golden Gift from Tiny Wings

From flower to flower, they dance in the breeze,

Busy and gentle, the little honey bees.

With pollen-dusted legs and tireless flight,

They work through the day and rest by night.

In wooden boxes, safe and tight,

They build their combs with pure delight.

Each cell they fill with nectar sweet,

A golden treasure, nature's treat.

The beekeeper comes with careful hand,

Respecting their work, as nature planned.

With smoke so soft, a calming grace,

He opens the hive, a sacred place.

The honey is spun with love and care,

No heat, no mix, just essence rare.

Filtered slow, drop by drop,

Until the golden rivers stop.

Sealed in jars, so pure and true,

A gift from bees, and morning dew.

So next time honey graces your tea,

Thank the tiny, tireless bee.