I look up and see,
a rose-red bubble
surrounding me.

A large stalk grows from its middle
topped with yellow dust,
as I look I hum a giggle.

The fragrance here is heady,
I feel a bit stumbling drunk,
as this whole thing is unsteady.

I catch the wind and fly,
taking dust with me,
as to my trade, I ply.

Crawling now through pink sticky
upon the prickled tossing head,
walking here is quite tricky.

Now home I go on the wing,
joining all my mates,
thank goodness I did not have to sting