Without the honeybee
The gentle breeze finds no leaves to caress
A quiet morning
When the birds find no trees to perch on
and can not send their sweet melodies
Your lover, your queen
A bouquet of the most fragrant flowers
Her eyes will light up
Her cheeks may rouge
But alas
There are no flowers
You wish to bathe her in milk and honey?
Save nature’s elves
Pollen is not an allergen. It is fairy dust
Some people are allergic to magic
If you fear a soft sting
Come back down to Earth
Respect her children
Sometimes bees are suffocated by our existence
Apr 28, 2018
Apr 28, 2018 at 8:48 AM UTC
Without the honeybee
The gentle breeze finds no leaves to caress
A quiet morning
When the birds find no trees to perch on
and can not send their sweet melodies
Your lover, your queen
A bouquet of the most fragrant flowers
Her eyes will light up
Her cheeks may rouge
But alas
There are no flowers
You wish to bathe her in milk and honey?
Save nature’s elves
Pollen is not an allergen. It is fairy dust
Some people are allergic to magic
If you fear a soft sting
Come back down to Earth
Respect her children
Sometimes bees are suffocated by our existence
