A fuzzy buzzing bumbling bee;
No stinger, a singer humming a perfect C.
Spotting a prize, he dives, through pecan canopy,
Cloying smell of cherry tree, holding space in harmony.
Climbing vines he finds herbs of all size and kind,
Along a golden beet road washed in sunshine,
'Round roots and shoots and shrooms he flies.
Holding hover over groundcover; finally, time to dine.
Alighting on his prize:
A lone dandelion.
