Golden Nectar
Reflection
In the depths of a flower, a tiny king reigns,
A bee with armor shining, pollen's golden remains.
With furrowed brow and busy wings, it toils,
Collecting the sweetness that life's beauty soils.
Its path is one of purpose, driven by instinct's might,
A dance with nature, a waltz in the warm sunlight.
The red petals enfold it, a crimson throne,
As it gathers the treasure that will make it known.
In this fleeting moment, we see the bee's design,
A microcosm of industry, a world so divine.
The pollen's dust, a golden crown,
Adorns the bee, a symbol of life's renown.