The Little Bee and the Flower

Little bee beside the field,
Looks at a flower, half-concealed.
She doesn’t dare to come too near,
Afraid to spoil what she holds dear.

The flower whispers, soft and sweet:
“Come on over, let’s finally meet.
My nectar’s sweeter than any treat,
Come taste a little bit of sky so neat.”

The bee steps closer, one step, then two,
Wings a-tremble, eyes shut tight and true.
She lands at last on petals bright,
A tiny guest in the morning light.

Her heart begins to hum with glee,
She did it — what a bee should be!
From flower to flower, she flies with cheer,
No trace of worry, no trace of fear.